


The Alchemist

by Jericho_andromeda_winters



Series: Antithesis [1]
Category: Antisepticeye - Fandom
Genre: Antisepticeye Sean McLoughlin, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2019-06-08 17:13:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 68
Words: 58,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15248025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jericho_andromeda_winters/pseuds/Jericho_andromeda_winters
Summary: My name is Antioch. Not Anti, not Antisepticeye.Antioch.The Snake.I am not Sean. I am not Jack. I am the Antithesis of all that he is, more than he will ever be.I am Antioch. Learn it. Memorize it. Sear it into your skull. Remember the sound of my name above all else. Because the next time you hear it...You'll be running for your life.________________________________My name is Atticus Antioch Solomon, brother of a Demon and kin to the snake.I destroyed the boy named Oliver Saul; only I and my power stand in his wake. I'm the master of my own destiny now, born to make the world shake and shatter at my fingertips.My name is Atticus Antioch Solomon, the raven. If you choose to stand against me and my brother...Death will be the only God that comes when you call.





	1. 1

Go read these:

1) The thrill of control  
2) The thrill of darkness

Or this story will make zero sense

 

 

 

 

 

 

Green...

Green and black...

Green and black and bright and dark.

It was all that I saw, all that surrounded me, all that I was, yet all that I wasn't. It was without and within me, a shapeless, formless, newborn mass of primordial mist. 

I couldn't put words to it. I didn't know what words were. I didn't even know I existed, didn't know what existance was. All I knew was that I was. All I knew was what I could see and feel...

Green and black....

Soft....

Soft and cold...

 

I want....

 

 

 

 

I want to sleep....

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I awoke again. I was more awake this time. I was more. I was in once place now instead of floating around in the countless particles of dust. 

I want to wake up. 

I felt the abstract, scattered mass of green and black being dragged in to a single point. Not solid, not quite whole, but just enough to know that I existed. 

I want to wake up.

I didn't know anything past that. I didn't even know how to ask myself why and how. 

I want to wake up. 

I want to wake up. 

WAKE UP. 

WAKE UP.

WAKE-


	2. 2

??? POV:

 

I would never get tired of boarding.

The wind rustled through my hair as the city's chaos became blurred and distant. My spine tingled with the ecstasy of the adrenaline screaming through my veins, my heart thumping wildly in my chest. I grinned as the city goers around me let out indignant exclamations;

"Watch it, brat!"

"Delinquent!"

"Get a job!"

'If they only knew,' I thought drily in response to the jab about my apparent lack of occupation.

I actually did have a job, several in fact. My life was much busier than the average nineteen year old's; between advanced classes in school and my other... hobbies, I didn't have much free time for social media and vapid gossip. Not that I had a problem with that. 

I couldn't fathom living in the droll doldrums of the average highschooler. Fucking hell, I'd go comatose. 

I pushed off a ledge and three sixtied in what I considered a very basic maneuver, grunting as the board jarred against the ground. I smirked at a group of kids who gaped at my little show, giving them a cheeky nod before continuing on my merry way. 

Five minutes later, I reached my destination on the outer edge of town. I launched myself into the air and picked up my board midflight, running up the ten foot wall and landing safely on the top. I continued forward into the sudden drop, letting myself descend freely into the narrow schism between the two concrete slabs that was much too small to be called a proper alley. 

I skated the last fifteen feet to the end of the hollow, tilting my board to slide to an abrupt halt before kicking my trusty mount up into my hand.

I grinned as I approached my prize, giddy with the anticipation of the best part of my day. I pushed the wooden crates that hid my tools to the side and began the familiar nightly ritual that I had faithfully repeated for the last four years.

'Show time.' 

....................................................

I opened the door to the apartment as slowly and quietly as possible; the absolute last thing I needed was An- 

"And just where the fuck have you been?" 

...Shit. 

I groaned and turned towards the voice as the lights flicked on. My over-protective flat mate was leaning on the wall beside the light switch across the room with his arms crossed as he waited impatiently for an answer. 

"Well?" He demanded. I peeled off my mask and shrugged out of my jacket.

"Out," I said vaguely, trying to look innocent. He didn't buy it. He cursed and pushed off the wall, arching his brow at me.

"Oh, you've been out, huh? Care to explain the mess on short street, then?" He asked irately. 

I cringed; he had me there. Good God did channel eight work fast...

"How do you know about that?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"Oh please," he scoffed, "I followed you after you bolted out of that parent- teacher conference. You know, I'm actually pretty disappointed that you didn't sense me. I thought I taught you better than that, kid."

"You taught me well enough for me to be confident in my ability to handle my own damn self," I growled, hiding my embarrassment behind my anger. 

"I know you can hold your own, kid. The only problem is that you're a damn drama queen," he said, jabbing an accusing finger in my direction, "Who never cleans up his messes. Sticking your nose in other people's beeswax is a good way to attract unwanted attention."

I huffed out an incredulous laugh. 

"Do I strike you as a bystander? Surely after nearly nine years you'd know me better than that," I scoffed, passing him to stalk to my room. 

"Unfortunately for me..." I heard him mutter before I closed the door. 

Two hours earlier:

I leapt from building to building, practically flying across the rooftops as I moved fluidly through the darkness. My mask and hood made it extremely hard to see, especially at night. I didn't mind, of course; it wasn't as if I actually needed my eyes. 

It was a disappointingly quiet night. I ran for over an hour, covering nearly half the sleeping city. I came to a halt at the edge of a warehouse roof in the projects, sighing in frustration. This was getting ridiculous. There was usually trouble on this side of town on the daily. Just a little bit of action, just a bit. Was that too much to ask? 

I was about to call it quits when...

"Dude, hurry up! You know what'll happen if this deal takes too long, right?" 

My ears perked up at the faint, agitated voice coming from the other side of the building. I grinned.

'A deal, huh?'

I circled back to the other end of the building and balanced myself on the roof's edge. I pressed a button on my wristband, activating my home made cloaking device to conceal myself as I listened. 

"Would you shut the fuck up already, Ace?" Came a different voice, "what are the chances that he'd come tonight, huh? The fucker has other shit to do than bust a couple glass orders. Now help me move this shit to the car."

Bingo. 

I watched closely as they came into view, carrying gallon baggies stuffed full of a white substance to the trunk of their car that was already full of the stuff. I grimaced in disgust. Ugh... why couldn't these people take up poetry or something instead of drugs? Jack Kerouac's material was a trip in and of itself. 

Shaking my head, I waited until they were clear of the car before taking out a flare gun from my belt and shooting it into the center of the trunk, watching in satisfaction as the bags of white dust burst into foul smelling flames. The two men whirled around quickly and gaped in shock as at least five hundred dollars worth of crystal meth went up in smoke. 

"Oh shit..." the one named Ace whispered, his eyes widening in terror as they both began backing away slowly, "I told you, man! I fuckin' told you he'd be here!" 

I chose that moment to deactivate my cloaking device and push off the roof, my jacket fluttering wildly behind me as I descended. I ducked and rolled when I hit the ground, leaping easily to my feet and stalking silently towards them from behind. 

"Evening, gentlemen."

I looked on in amusement as they both jumped about a foot in the air and turned, the shock and horror clear on their faces. 

"C-Crow..." the unnamed thug whispered in horror. I sighed.

"I'm not overly fond of that moniker, you know. But I suppose it hardly matters. Now," I grinned behind my mask as I advanced, cracking my neck conspicuously, "should we do this the easy way? Or the fun way?" 

.....................................

I fell on my bed with a weary, but contented sigh. It was no bank robbery, but I was satisfied. I released a latch on the metal portion of my shoulder and detached my arm with a small grunt. Shit... it was starting to feel tight again, along with my leg and eye. Damn these growth spurts; I would have to modify them again. It would take days for the limbs, and probably weeks for the delicate and painstaking processes that the eye would require.

Bullocks. 

Tap tap tap. 

There was a familiar rapping on my window before I could remove my troublesome leg. I turned to see Socrates perched on the window ledge, cocking his head at me and ruffling his feathers as he waited patiently to be let in.

I got up and opened the window, raising an eyebrow at the raven as he cawed and flew to perch on my gimp shoulder like he always did; it was easier for me to pet him that way.

"And just where have you been? I could have used your eyes tonight," I scolded, sounding a bit like the overprotective Demon I'd spoken to just minutes before. Socrates cawed again in answer, drawing a sigh from me. 

"Well, I hope you had fun. Be back by six next time, will you?"

There was a knock at my door.

"Yo," came the muffled call.

"Wait, give me a second to sneak my date out the window," I smirked as I sat on my bed, stroking Socrates' wings.

"Hilarious. I'll take that as an invitation," the Demon said as he stepped into the room. He shook his head and smirked at me.

"Like you could even get a date."

"Did you come to tuck me in, dad?" I asked, ignoring the jab. I chose that moment to release the latches on my bionic leg, knowing it still made him slightly uncomfortable after all these years, as if I'd just lost it yesterday. His lips turned down at my comment. 

"Listen, I know you think I'm being overprotective or whatever-" 

"Understatement, but go on," I interupted snidely.

"But I just want you to be cautious," he continued, "You're still young; ninteen isn't exactly an ideal age to start throwing yourself into danger like this. I know I can't control you, but this 'crow' thing? You're playing with fire, kid. Sooner or later you're gonna catch the eye of something that's bigger than even you can handle."

I glowered at him. 

"I can take care of myself, Antioch," I growled. 

"I know that. I'm the one who trained you," he said, turning to walk out of the room.

"Just be careful, Atticus," he said over his shoulder. 

 


	3. 3

Anti's POV:

I shut the door to my room and leaned against it with a weary sigh. 

"I miss the ten year old," I grumbled under my breath. I mean sure, I'd always be proud of him, that was a given. I pretty much raised the kid. And all things considered, he'd turned out great for someone who was raised by a Demon. He was brave, compassionate, resourceful, tremendously intelligent, and a far better man than I would ever be. 

Well I'm not actually a man per say, but you get the idea. 

I heard a couple metallic clangs followed by a strange clacking sound coming from down the hall. I shook my head and rolled my eyes to to the heavens. There was no telling what he was tinkering with now; Alchemy, Magic, Tech, Atticus did it all. In fact, most of the weapons, spells, and potions he used were of his own design, including his arm and leg. 

He must have brushed off hundreds of apologies from me, telling me that it wasn't my fault, telling me that he was fine with the "improvements". It didn't really help the guilt, though. I had never stopped blaming myself for what happened at the House Gathering all those years ago. The regret was always there, lingering in the back of my mind at the end of the day. 

God did I ever hate emotions. I still wasn't used to them, even after nine years.

"YES!!" 

I was startled out of my gloomy thoughts by an ecstatic shout from down the hall. I smiled despite myself, knowing that Atticus only got that excited when he had a big breakthrough on one of his experiments. It was always something new. He'd shown me hybrid spells and jinxes, experimental charms, weapons he'd designed himself... he never ceased to amaze. 

"Antioch! Antioch, come here!!" Atticus called after he'd finished cheering. I chuckled at his antics before dissolving into the sea green light I'd grown so used to, slipping under the door and down the hall to his room. 

He was standing on the opposite side of the room with a mischievous shit-eating grin plastered on his face that made me a little suspicious. I peered into the room, wondering what exactly he wanted to show me. Seeing nothing new, I stepped into the room. 

"What-"

"Senthiis Maligna!" Atticus interupted, still grinning his head off. Nothing happened. Suddenly suspicious, I began to back slowly out of the room, watching him warily. I had a bad feeling about this...

A sudden flash of bright light made me close my eyes and bring my hands up to my face to block the glare. When the light dimmed a bit, I slowly opened my eyes. 

There was a bright red circle shining on the floor beneath my feet, bathing the room in an aura of crimson light. It looked like one of Atticus' transmutation circles. I cocked an eyebrow at him. 

"And what's this?"

"Just an experiment," Atticus said innocently, "you can go back now."

I rolled my eyes and turned to leave, grumbling about coming here for nothing. I had almost reached the door at the very edge of the circle when something stopped me. I looked down in confusion and lifted a foot to try again only to find that I couldn't; I was trapped at the edge of the circle. I turned around to glate at Atticus. 

"Alright, you little brat. What did you do?" I demanded. The grin returned to Atticus' face at my frustration. 

"Having trouble?" He teased. I just crossed my arms, my scowl deepening as I waited for an answer. 

"I call it 'The Seal of Solomon,'" he explained proudly, "It's a trap designed specifically for Demons. Neat, huh?" 

I had to admit, he had every right to boast. It was an impressive feat; Though Paranormal Seals were hardly a novel idea, I'd never heard of one that could trap a Demon. The way he had combined Sorcery and Alchemy to make his own unique brand of magic was pretty damn impressive. 

Not that I'd tell him that. 

"Kudos, kid," I said dryly, "Mind cutting me loose?" 

Atticus pouted at my lack of a reaction and waved a hand through the air. 

"Abiido Amarta."

I sighed in relief as the circle faded, giving Atticus a stern glare when the process was over. The brat didn't even have the decency to look apologetic.

"Oh come on, Antioch! You know that was cool." 

I glowered at him for a moment more before sighing and nodding reluctantly. 

"That was pretty impressive kid, I gotta admit," I conceded, smiling despite myself at his triumphant grin. With that, I turned to leave for the second time that evening.

"Night, Atticus; here's hoping you won't have to use that on anyone but me." 

Oh, if only I'd known...

 

 

 

Senthiis Maligna: Reveal Prison  
Abiido Amarta: Banish binding

 

 

So I made my own language. It's simple, but you'll like it XD


	4. 4

Whitney High School, L.A.  
Principal's office

Anti's POV:

"Mister Solomon," The vice principal greeted me formally as I shut the door behind me, "Please, have a seat." 

I did as she asked, lowering myself into the cushy chair in front of her desk, not bothering to look at the sulking teen slouching in the chair beside me. The lady sitting stiffly before us delicately adjusted her spectacles before lacing her fingers together on the desk. Ugh, those nails... hot pink and long enough to be considered weapons. Gross. 

"As you know-" she began.

"Wait. Lemme guess. Another fight?" I cut in. I took her frosty glare and lack of a vocal response as an affirmitive and turned to Atticus. 

"Well? You win?" I asked expectantly, already knowing the answer. True to form, the kid just smirked and sat a little straighter. 

"Please." 

"Mister Solomon!" The ice queen interupted snappily, "This is a very serious matter. As this young man's guardian, I expect you to treat it as such. If this had happened outside of Whitney, your son would be charged as an adult, tried, and jailed with assault charges. If you two don't act appropriately, I reserve the right to turn this incident over to the police."

I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. God, she was annoying. 

"Ugh. Fine," I grunted, "What happened, kid?" 

"He was-" 

"'Scuse me, Were you there? I'm asking Atticus," I interupted before turning back to my 'son.'

Atticus' smirk disappeared to be replaced by the dark scowl I knew so well. This must have been a doozy. 

I sat back and prepared to be entertained, trying my best to hide my smile. 

Atticus' POV, one hour prior:

"Finally."

I sat back in my seat, observing my finished piece with satisfation. I'd chosen Hamlet for the subject of my final project for Dual credit AP Lit. It was a hefty bit of work, a ten page essay on the various ways the theme of insanity came into play throughout what I considered to be Shakespeare's magnum opus. It had taken me much longer than expected, but it was three hours well spent. At least the material was stimulating. I began to gather my things, already thinking about which areas in the city I would cover that night. I was always eager to ditch the inconspicuous prosthetics that I had to wear in public; I felt naked without my weapons.

"Hey! Don't walk away from me!" 

I turned my head to see two kids who appeared to be in an argument of some sort, a very one-sided squabble by the looks of it. A well built young man that I recognized from the cross country team was stalking angrily after a very annoyed brunette. My nose crinkled in disgust at his aura, a dark, muddy brown that signified either a bad personality or a lack of one altogether.   
I watched as the petite girl clutched her books tightly to her chest and tried to ignore her pursuer. She was obviously peeved, fuming and red in the face. I could practically see the steam coming out of her ears. 

"Bugger off, Chance!" She growled, not bothering to look over her shoulder, "I'll not ask again!"

Hm. I could tell from her lilting accent that she was from England like me. Interesting. A foreign exchange student perhaps? 

"What's got you so high and mighty, huh?" The boy demanded, quickening his pace to dart in front of her, "Think you're too good for an American?" 

"Not at all; I'm just too good for you."

With that, she turned up her nose in dismissal and made to walk around him to continue on her way, but was forced to stop when he stepped into her path again and grabbed her arm harder than necessary.

"Wha- hey!" She yelped in surprise as her books and papers spilled to the floor. 

That did it.

I calmly approached the two of them, careful to keep myself out of the boy's line of sight. One should never underestimate the element of surprise, even if only to unnerve the opponent.  
I stopped behind them, resting my hands comfortably in my pockets. I waited for the girl to notice me, giving her a single nod of acknowledgement when her derisive eyes flicked to me. She really did have lovely eyes...

"Good evening."

The boy, Chance, whirled around without letting go of the brunette's arm, hiding his surprise with a scowl.

"Buzz off Brit shit, this is none of your business. Shouldn't you be studying or something?" Chance snarked. I sighed at the childish comments; that snide tone of his was going to land him in quite a spot one day.

"Very clever," I commented dryly, "Though I do find the idea of you giving me academic advice to be quite ridiculous, seeing as you've cheated on every single one of Mister Rayez's Spanish tests this year."  
I smirked as his face turned red. Bit touchy, wasn't he? 

"You-"

"Not to ruin the moment with cliche, but is this boy bothering you?" I asked the brunette, pointedly ignoring the aggressor in question. The girl hesitated before nodding unsurely, as if wondering what exactly I was planning to do about it. I 

"Good." 

"What... why would that be good... wait, what are you doing?" She asked as I calmly removed my prosthetic arm. From the look of surprise on her face, I surmised that she was probably new enough to the school that she hadn't noticed my handicap yet. I grinned as I placed the arm on the floor and slid it to the side with my foot.

"Just making this a fair fight. I wouldn't want this to be over too quickly; far be it from me to put Chance here to shame." 

Anti's POV, present:

"Disappointingly, he was spread eagled in a matter of minutes anyway," Atticus mused, "and the girl was gone before I got her name. That's when Miss Jackson showed up and..." he motioned with his hands, "well, here we are."   

"Seems legit," I commented. Vice Principal Janice J. Jackson shot me her signature icy glare. 

"Is that all you have to say?" She demanded. I shrugged and nodded.

"Well yeah. He was justified, wasn't he?" 

"He broke a student's nose, Mister Solomon," she hissed, "And his parents are threatening legal action." 

I shot Atticus a disapproving frown. 

"Dude. Overkill. We've talked about this," I said flatly, knowing full well I'd probably be patting him on the back under normal circumstances. 

"Well deserved, I assure you," Atticus muttered. He at least had the good grace to pretend to be chided.

"For once, I agree with you. But deserved or not, there are smarter ways to handle these situations, Atticus," Miss Jackson sighed, "What will you two do if a law suit goes through?"

Yeahhh, I didn't have a good answer to that.

"...uh... listen, I think we might have had a little bit of a misunder-" 

"You have a smart boy here, Mister Solomon," Miss Jackson snapped, "I doubt anything he does can be misconstrued in any way. Now, I'm going to be completely frank with you; the one and only reason that Atticus hasn't been expelled thus far is his Valedictorian status. He has had nine second chances. Nine. His academic acheivments can only protect him so much."

She shook her head and adjusted her spectacles again.

"One last chance, Mister Solomon. We'll give your son One last chance. If he can get through the last three months of his senior year without managing to spill any more blood, he'll be allowed to graduate with full honors and his well-earned associate's degree. If not.... well. We have a reputation to uphold, you understand."

"Yeah. Yeah, we got it," I muttered, pushing out of mychair and motioning for Atticus to do the same, "C'mon, kid."

We left without a word, walked home without a word, and climbed the stairs to our apartment in complete silence.

We didn't really need any words to know that we were fucked. 

But of course. 

Of fucking course. 

I should have known that it would get worse.


	5. 6

Atticus' POV:

I grunted and pushed off the wall to stalk to my room. Aristotle flew out of the hallway to light on my shoulder before letting out a hoarse caw that let me know he was annoyed. 

"Bugger. Did I forget to let you out this morning, Ari?" I asked, stopping to nuzzle his face with a finger. I took the answering grumble as a yes and started for my room again so I could fix that.

"How many freakin' times do I gotta tell you to open the damn window in the morning? If he crapped on my bed again, you're cleaning it off!" Anti fumed. I rolled my eyes and ignored him, not in the mood to deal with any of his condescension at the moment.

"Hey, We're not done!" He called after me.

"Yeah. We are," I shot back. I had just gotten to my room an was about to shut the door when Antioch's foot lodged into the doorway. I leapt out of the way as he kicked the door open, using just enough force to make his irritation known without ripping the door clean off the wall. Aristotle squawked and flapped to the window.

"No, Atticus. We need to talk," Antioch said calmly.

"Great. Abarto et onir," I intoned, motioning towards the window with my good arm. The latch swung open and the window lifted at my command, prompting Aristotle to give a happy squawk as he made his getaway. I sighed and sat heavily on my bed, knowing that this was probably going to be a long one.

"What about?" 

"About this fucking terrible teens act of yours!" Antioch exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air in an annoyed gesture, "every time I see you you're either just coming home from a fight, getting ripped for one you had at school, or smarting off like a pubescent girl!" 

I repressed a flinch and dampened my sight as his aura flared unintentionally. 

"Watch it," I growled. 

"Seriously kid, what's gotten into you?" He demanded, crossing his arms.

"What's gotten into me?" I echoed incredulously, "Nothing! Nothing's gotten into me! Specifically your nothing."

"What?"

"You sit around and do nothing, hiding away in here and letting your powers atrophy while you could be out there helping people!  That's what's gotten into me Antioch. You."

"Maybe I don't want to fight anymore!" Antioch snapped, "You ever think that maybe, just maybe I might wanna put all that shit behind me? All that blood and violence... the things I did..." he trailed off before his face settled back into a resolute glare. 

"That's not who I am anymore, kid. That's not who I want to be. I've grown up, Atticus. It took two millenia, but I finally shaped up. You should too."

I averted my eyes; I knew there was truth to his words, there always was. I hadn't even thought about how different bloodshed seemed to him after his change, had never considered that the reason for his pacifism might have been his regret. 

But of course I couldn't say any of this. I wasn't like him, wasn't afraid of myself or my magic. I'd been given this power for a reason, and damned if I would let anything stand in the way of me using it.

"You know, for all of your waffling on about this adulthood rubbish, you certainly-" 

My rebuttal was suddenly cut short as my voice was swallowed up by a concussive explosion behind me. I whirled around to see that the wall was... dissolving. 

I backed away as the structure was slowly ripped apart, staring in shock as bits and pieces of brick and drywall tore themselves away and floated aloft in thin air. The damage spread, spider-webbing across the room bit by bit until there was nothing left but the floor beneath my feet. Even the ceiling was gone. Instead of the city outside and the rest of the apartment, I could see only blackness beyond the wreckage.

Shocked and confused beyond words, I turned quickly back to Anti only to see that he had disappeared.

"What- "

My words turned into a shout of panic as the floor dropped from beneath me, sending me plummeting headlong into the darkness.


	6. 6

Third person POV, forty nine AD:

He woke up on a black plain under a black sky, an endless abyss of disorienting darkness. He is as formless and abstract as the limbo that surrounds him, nothing more than a thoughtless consciousness floating senselessly in empty space. If he knew anything beyond this simple existence, he might have wondered where he was and what was happening. But he knew nothing and was nothing, and so floated aimlessly through the abyss with no knowledge of time or space. 

After a stretch of time that he was unable to fathom, there was a flash of warmth and light. He felt a faint, rythmic vibration course steadily through him as the soft heat washed over his entire being. He heard noises. He felt something wrap around him, felt something cradle him tightly.

He cried out in indignance at being thrust out of the darkness so suddenly, protesting loudly at the unwelcome sensations that forced him to abandon his peace.

He had no way of putting words to what he was thinking and feeling at that time, young and new as he was. But in the end, it didn't matter. 

It took him a long time to realise that those feelings were not his own.


	7. 7

Atticus' POV:

I didn't have to scream for long, landing in an ungraceful heap after my surprisingly short fall. I groaned and rolled to my back, clutching weakly at my aching skull; though the impact wasn't actually that bad, my head was pounding like mad. If there was anything to see, I'm certain my vision would have been blurred.

Oliver...

A small, rasping whisper reached my ears, tickling a ghost of a memory in the back of my mind. I froze stock still before kicking quickly to my feet to face the unknown presence.

 

It was a small boy, his face and features hidden in the darkness. I curiously reached out with my sight to be greeted by the purest shade of royal blue I had ever seen. It couldn't be...

Oliver...

"Solomon?" I whispered numbly. I was about to take a step forward when a sourceless gust of wind whirled around me, forcing me to shut my eyes. It was gone after a few seconds. When I opened my eyes...

 

The man before me now was nearly as tall as I was, and though I couldn't see his face, I estimated him to be around my age. He was cloaked in an unsettling aura of the acid green hue I'd grown up with. I put one foot forward and settled into an offensive fighting stance, showing him I wasn't going to be intimidated.

...No one is coming to save you...

"Who are you?" I demanded, ignoring the harsh rasp wriggling through my head, "and what do you want?" 

I nearly flinched as the boy's form wavered jerkily like a computer screen, flickering out of existence. 

OLIVER...

I cried out and clapped my hands over my ears as my head was invaded by an indescernable amount of voices, each one fighting for dominance. I could only pick out bits and pieces;

...No one is coming   
to save you...

...I am everything You   
can't Control,   
Oliver... 

...You're playing My game now... 

...Kneel... 

...I am your God now... 

...Feel like making   
a deal with the Devil?

That last phrase was repeated in my head over and over like an awful mantra, echoing and overlapping in my mind and growing louder and more painful by the second. I held the sides of my head hard, afraid that if I didn't, my skull would shatter. 

"SHUT UP!!" I roared. 

And then the voices stopped, disappearing as abrubtly as they'd come. The echo of my own voice reverberated in the darkness and faded, leaving me stranded in the silence once more. 

FEEL LIKE MAKING A DEAL WITH THE DEVIL, OLLIE?

With that final blow to my cranium, I screamed and fell back to my knees as I was suddenly bombarded with a violent nflux of images ranging from odd to horrific, sights and sounds that didn't make a lick of sense.

And then I was suddenly falling again, falling through the sky towards a city I didn't recognize.

My whole body felt burned and broken; I didn't even have the strength to scream. I shut my eyes tightly before I hit the ground and my world faded to black. 

From the darkness came a horrific mixture of countless voices speaking in a unified monotone:

A new darkness   
will become the key  
That The blood of Abel's blood will turn. 

A seal of infant light   
will become the lock  
That the blood of Cain's blood will break.

And thus an old shadow   
will cast off its shackles,  
To slake it's hunger   
with the blood of the earth.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Feel like making a deal with the Devil, Ollie?

 

 

 

 

 

 

Atticus' POV: 

I shot awake with a hoarse scream, covered in a sheen of cold sweat. I sensed a presence very near me and began to thrash and struggle, lashing out with my fists in self defense.

"Ow! fuckin' shit! Easy kid, easy!" The presence yelled firmly, putting his hands on my shoulders to keep me from sitting up. My eyes snapped up to his as he spoke; Antioch. I was overcome with relief at the soothing sound of the familiar voice, even if it was irritated. I closed my eyes and let my head thump back onto the floor as I tried to slow my frantic heartbeat. I felt like I had just run a marathon. 

"Fuck," Antioch groaned, wincing and rubbing his chest where I'd punched him, "I know I trained you, but Jesus, you're arm is insane."  
He sighed and sat back, leaning back on the side of my bed with his legs bent so he could rest his arms on his knees. 

"It's been awhile since your last little brain blast; I forgot how insane these are. what was it this time?" He asked warily. After all that I had just gone through, his concern was undoubtedly welcome.

"I... I'm not sure," I admitted after a moment, "Up until now, my visions have always been about specific people, and always in the present. Like I'm seeing through their eyes for a time. But now..." I trailed off into a troubled silence, shaking my head. 

"That bad huh?" Antioch asked softly, "You were screaming pretty loud. Wanna talk about it?" He offered. 

"Not particularly. But I will," I sighed, knowing that it was probably best if Antioch was privy to a thing like this. I sighed again and prepared to tell him everything I knew... but stopped. 

A strange sensation suddenly washed over me, like an invisible gust of icy air. My skin tightened, erupting into goosebumps as the hair on my arms, legs, and neck stood on end. 

"What is that...?" I murmured, slowly pushing myself into a sitting position. 

"Uh... what is what? You okay?" Antioch asked in confusion. I didn't answer for a moment, focusing on the disturbance as I scanned the room. There were no alien energy signatures around us that I could see; just me and Antioch. So why did I feel like we were being stalked? 

"I don't know," I muttered for the second time that night as I stood tensely, "And I don't like not knowing." 

"What are you seeing? I can't sense anything," Antioch informed me matter-of-factly, pushing off the floor with a grunt. 

"I don't see anything. That's the point. Akiva Avakriis," I intoned, activating the machinery in my false eye with the command. 

 

"What the hell are you talking about?" Anti demanded. 

"Sh." 

I turned about slowly, scanning the room... and finding nothing. 

"Apereca lomotis," I said on a whim, searching one final time not for energy, but for movement. When I got to the outside wall, the one with the window...

"Jesus Christ." 

 

 

Words used: 

Apereca: Reveal  
Lomotis: Movement  
Akiva: Activate  
Akriis: Machine/Electronic

Akiva Akriis: Activate Machine  
Apereca Lomotis: reveal movement


	8. 8

Third person POV, 58 AD:

It's a long time before he is aware of his situation. He learns by the age of six his status as a prisoner in the body of his captor, this Arioch. He learns that the words that were learned and spoken by Arioch were not his own, nor were the feelings that were forced upon him. His revalation sparked the beginnings of his mental autonomy from his host, allowing him to feel his very own emotions for the first time. Anger. Resentment. Helplessness. But most of all, a deep seated need to escape his host, whom he now saw as nothing more than a prison.

 

He grew and learned with Antioch, an unseen presence observing the boy's life with his utmost attention, if only to escape the madness of knowing he was utterly alone. His hate for Arioch grew with each passing day as he watched the child laugh and love and live. 

 

He often wondered as he surveyed him why he couldn't feel those same things. He searched within himself time and again, but found nothing but a black rage. Eventually, the anger became all that he was. He let it define him, gleaning joy out of the only thing that he alone could truly feel.

 

When Arioch was nine years old, he had grown into a fine, healthy young boy. His parents gave him a set of tools used for art like carving and painting; Arioch's father had crafted them himself, along with an array of rare and brightly colored dyes that he refused to reveal how he made. 

Unbeknownst to the ecstatic young boy, the being inside of him was instantly enthralled. He watched with endless wonder as his host explored the infinite possibilities in human creativity, wishing more than anything that he could do the same. So many incredible ideas filled his head, some dark, some bright, but all a part of him. If he could just reach through... if he could just reach out and touch...

But he never could. And so he was confined to peering out at the world through the bars of his prison, existing vicariously through Arioch. He resigned himself to his isolation, resigned himself to his lot in his half-life, giving up hope of doing anything more than watching and pretending.

He pretended it was his hands that guided the brush across the papyrus, pretended that he held the knife as it carved a formless chunk of wood into something fantastic and new. Just like he pretended that it was him that Arioch's mother hugged tight, him that Arioch's father lectured and taught, him that Arioch's  grandfather told fantastic stories to.

But it wasn't him. 

And he knew it never would be.


	9. 9

Atticus' POV:

"Jesus Christ..." I whispered, stumbling back from the sight before me.   
"Antioch! Get away from the wall!" I hissed, keeping my voice low so as not to alert whatever the hell was outside. He followed my instructions, crossing the room to stand beside me before turning to stare intently at the window and wall. 

"What do you see?" He asked again, more urgent this time. I shook my head, unable to answer for the moment. My previous two incantations had powered up my eye and activated my heat and motion sensors. I don't know what I expected them to reveal, but it certainly wasn't what I was seeing now. 

There was what looked like the outline of an enormous spider-like creature at least the size of two fully grown men crawling slowly down the wall towards our window. It had no heat signature and moved so slowly that it only just barely made it onto my radar.   
I quickly explained what I was seeing to Anti as the creature made its way to the window, it's movements jerky and almost birdlike in nature. 

"Get ready," I warned. Though he was still confused, Anti nodded and readied his mace. Despite my steeled nerves, I nearly dropped my staff when the first limb appeared in the window. 

A hand. 

A grotesque, rotting human hand was pressing itself against the glass. It had the sickening pale green hue of decaying flesh, and open sores that one usually saw on a body weeks after it was dead and in the ground. Neither I nor Antioch said a word, but I knew that he was just as unsettled as I was. 

Another hand appeared, this one in an even worse state. Then another, and another. They all began to press on the glass, slowly cracking it until it shattered completely into pieces. Job done, the hands quickly retracted, and For a moment, there was no movement whatsoever on my radar as the creature went completely still. 

"...Is it gone?" Antioch asked slowly, his puzzlement audible even through his grim tone.

As it turned out, no. It wasn't. 

There was a deafening, unearthly screech that set my ears to ringing, even my left one that was slightly deaf. An explosion of brick, mortar, and glass shards forced Antioch and I to cover our faces with our arms. When the dust cleared, the sight before us rendered me speechless for the first time in years.

 

The only word to describe the beast was foul. The disgusting smell, the sickly pallor of its rotting skin, and the groteque shape... every one of its attributes was utterly monstrous. I'd never seen anything like it; no wraith or beldam, no beast of any kind was as uniquely fearsome as this one. But none of those things were what unsettled me. To me, the most frightening thing was not its abominable countenance or unsettling movements. It was what I didn't see that terrified me.

This creature had no light. 

Everything had some kind of light. Everything that moved always possessed some sort of energy or life force that I could detect. Without that light, without that essence... life as we know it could not exist. The abomination before me was simply impossible.

"What are you?" I whispered in horror.

The creature, of course, didn't answer. Instead, it lunged forward with yet another piercing screech, reaching for us with its long, bony arms.


	10. 10

Atticus' POV:

The creature lunged forward without warning, reaching for us with it's clawed, rotting hands and unnaturally long and spindly limbs.

Antioch and I leapt out of the way as it crashed into the wall so that each of us landed on either side of our foe. The thing backed away from the wall with a low hiss, leaving a monstrous dent. 

"Ah, come on!" Anti groaned loudly, drawing the creature's attention to him.   
"How are we gonna explain this one to the landlord?!" 

The beast shot toward the pouting Demon, its bones and joints creaking horrifically. Antioch went instantly into combat mode, his eyes flashing a fierce blue as his opponent charged. Gathering his power and concentrating in into his weapon, he raised his mace and dealt a devestating downward blow to the creature's head. The heavy spiked ball cracked against its target with skull crushing force, sending a significant portion of the monster's cranium flying across the room with a sickening crunch. 

The beast reared back on it's spider-like limbs and let out a single crackling howl of pain before attacking again with even more ferocity.

"Gah, shit!!" Antioch yelped, clearly shocked at the creature's unexpected recovery. He morphed his weapon into a shield and focused on avoiding the dozen or so limbs that were grabbing at him hungrily.   
"Little help here kid!" 

I leapt onto the thing's back, holding my breath to avoid the smell. I hacked and slashed at any limbs that came my way as Antioch did the same, ripping through the muscles and brittle bones like they were tissue paper. After a surprisingly routine fighting sequence (all things considered), the creature ended up hissing and writhing on the floor, unable to move without its arms.

"...Huh. That was easy," Anti remarked lightly as we examined the beast.  
"Weird; I've never seen a twenty one time amputee before."

Not bothering to comment on his macabre jest, I raised a hand toward its defeated form as it attempted to wriggle in our direction.

"Serov."

The head and neck of the thing were separated at my command as if by an invisible guillotine, clean and instantaneous. I stared at the mangled body for a couple more seconds to make sure it wasn't getting back up before turning to Antioch.

"You alright?" I asked, eyeing a nasty gash on his upper arm. It was shallow, but with enough blood to constitute mild concern.   
He shrugged.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine," he assured me dismissively as his sword dissappeared in a plume of blue-green smoke. "Thanks for the save, kid." 

"Always." 

"Welp," he sighed as he headed to his room, "better get this wound stitched and wrapped. You can start the clean up, and I'll handle the cops; we can figure out what that shit storm was later." 

I nodded and turned to the shitstorm in question... and stopped. 

The decrepit mass of rotting flesh was glowing, emitting a faint blood red light and a putrid black vapor that drifted off of it and wafted into the air. I stared in bewilderment as it smoldered; though I still couldn't sense any energy from the thing, it's heat signature was off the charts and growing by the second.

I realized what was happening just an instant before it did. 

"ARDURO PARAMATUS!" I screamed, quickly throwing up a shield as what was left of the creature violently exploded. Within seconds, the majority of the room was up in roaring flames that climbed the walls with astonishing speed. I quickly began gathering everything that was flammable or explosive and throwing them haphazardly into the case I kept by my desk for emergencies like this. Anti came screeching around the corner a moment later, throwing an arm in front of his face against the intense heat. 

"What the actual-" 

"Here! Get everything dangerous out of here!!" I yelled, thrusting the bag into his arms. He obeyed without question, using strands of his light to get the job done faster than I could. Turning to the flames that had consumed nearly all of three walls and the ceiling, I gathered my power and performed a quenching spell that I was certain would do the trick...

Nothing. 

Confused, I tried again with a different command, but the response was the same. What the hell...? 

"Fuck it's getting hot in here!" Shouted Antioch. He chunked the suitcase out the now nonexistant window.  
"What's wrong with you?! Kill the freaking fire already!!"

"I can't, damnit! it won't go out!!" I yelled back, beginning to panic.  
By this time, the fire had spread to the ceiling and half of the floor and showed no signs of stopping any time soon. I grabbed a couple weapons and shoved Anti out the door before following him out of the hellish inferno. In the living room, we were both panting and sweating, with streaks of ash and soot on our faces. It had taken less than a minute for my lab to be completely destroyed. Years of experiments and studies, down the drain. 

Bullocks.

Antioch whirled to face me.  
"What the fuck, kid? You've kicked bigger shit than-" 

"Antioch! Shut up and listen to me!" I snapped, grabbing his shoulders. I spoke quickly and urgently.  
"That's cursed fire. It won't go out until it completes the task the caster gave it. We need to get everyone out of this building now, before-" 

There was an explosion from my lab that shattered the living room wall like glass, sending both of us sprawling to the ground. Dazed, I lifted my head to look at the multicolored flames eating their way into the living room.  
Shit. We forgot the hex bombs. 

There was a sudden scream from the apartment above that snapped me out of my stupor. Antioch and I leapt to our feet. 

"Before that!" I continued, sprinting out the door, "Move, move!"

No one would die tonight. Not on our watch.


	11. 11

Anti's POV: 

I'd dealt with a lot of fires in my life. Some I just walked into, some I set on purpose... twenty years ago, I would've considered The Library of Alexandria my magnum opus of destruction. 

And don't even get me started on that Pompeii thing. 

But out of all of those fires, the one I was currently diving in and out of had to be the worst. Sure, it wasn't big enough to destroy a monument, and it didn't exactly have the same 'oomph' as a freaking volcano. Nah, I'd lived through those no problem. The scary thing about this fire in particular was the intent.

The more flames I ran through, the more chunks of burning infrastructure I dodged, the more I realized that the fire itself had a purpose, a goal, like Atticus said. I mean, it would be ridiculous to say that it was actually alive... 

You know what? Scratch that. After years of living with that crazy kid, I'd learned never to take anything within the realm of possibility for granted. He had a knack for raising a giant 'fuck you' to the laws of the universe every other tuesday. 

"Help! Somebody, please!!"

I ran towards the scream, using it and my trusty energy radar to find the source. I'd already cleared the second floor, and this was the last energy signature that I could sense on this one. 

 

It was a man's voice coming from down the hall. I screeched to a halt in front of the room and kicked down the door. I almost flinched as a strong blast of hot air slapped me in the face, singeing my skin. Nothing I couldn't handle, but damn.

"It's okay, I'll get you out! Fuck, where are you?!" I shouted over the crackling flames. Jesus, this guy was on the first floor! Literally everyone had made it out, how hard could it- 

Then I saw him.

'Ohhhhh. That explains it.'

"H-Hello? Who's there? Please, can you hear me?!" The man shouted. He looked like a fit enough guy, probably middle aged. The problem was that his eyes were glossed over with a telltale foggy white film; cataracts. He was blind. 

"I-I can't hear much over the fire, I-" 

"It's okay, I got you," I interrupted, crouching to lift his arm over my shoulders.   
"Put your shirt over your mouth, don't breathe too much smoke."

I moved as quickly as I could without running him into anything that could kill a human. It wasn't easy; He was leaning most of his weight on me, and out of the twenty other men, women, and children I'd had to carry, he was probably the biggest.

CRACK.

Aaaand the falling rafter that was now heading straight for my face didn't exactly help. 

knowing I wouldn't be able to dodge it in time, I turned and pushed Mister Magoo down under me so that I would take the hit instead of him. I gritted my teeth and braced myself for impact.

As it turned out, there was an impact; just not with me. There was a brief flash of movement that was almost too fast to track before the flaming beam of wood was blown back into the hallway, cracking against the wall behind us. I looked up at my savior sheepishly, expecting to see the smug face of Atticus smirking down at me. My jaw dropped.

Yeah... no. That wasn't Atticus.

"You... you can't be..." I whispered. Before I could get the words out, the man promptly turned and sprinted back into the flames.

'Go, Antioch. You have more important things to worry about.' 

Reminded of my situation, I shook myself out of my daze and hefted my cargo over my shoulders before sprinting to the exit. Whatever the fuck that was just then could wait until everyone was safe. 

I finally managed to get him to the gathering fleet of screaming ambulances and firetrucks waiting across the street, cursing loudly the entire way. Task done, I turned back to the building to do one last sweep for panicking energy signatures, trying to ignore the annoying interference from the chaos around me. If the kid was right, then the fire would quit once it completed its task and consumed the building. And those firetrucks were fucking useless, so I doubted we had very much longer before that point was reached.

 

 

(A/N: just to give you an idea)

I'd already kicked the first and second floor, and it looked like Atticus was almost done with three and four; I could feel his aura zipping back and forth up there, guiding people to the fire escapes and exits. It felt like there were only three or four to go, so I knew if I tried to help I'd only get in the way. 

But that face... that familiar aura... it had been so long. I couldn't feel him anymore, but I knew he was still there. 

I just hoped Atticus didn't end up running into him.


	12. 12

Atticus' POV:

"Before that!" I shouted, sprinting out the door, "Move, move! I'll take the top two floors!"

The next thirty minutes was an endless, tangled blur of fire and heat and cries for help. Most people could make it out, but with how quickly the cursed flames were spreading, a lot of them got trapped. Not to mention the fact that someone had disabled the fire alarms and sprinkler systems; the sprinklers obviously wouldn't have been much help, but without the alarm, nobody knew what was happening until they either heard the commotion or the fire was already upon them. Luckily, we cleared the third floor and most of the fourth without too many issues. 

A little over thirty minutes in, I was panting and sweating, covered in ash and soot. It was absolute torture; I'd used a fire deterrent spell on myself and Antioch to protect our skin and eyes, but that didn't mean I couldn't still feel the stifling heat. Most of my shirt had burned when I was pushing debri out of the way, so I'd had to ditch it. 

"Come on, follow me!!" I yelled back at the family I was currently focused on. The mother and father both carried a baby and a toddler, while I hefted their unconscious teen son on my shoulders. Kicking debri out of the way, I guided them to the fire escape, slipping a healing charm into the boy's pocket to help with the burns.

"Go! Get across the street!" I yelled. 

"What about-" 

"Just go!!"

After making sure they were able to get down the stairs, I began to run back for another struggling light that I could sense nearby... only to see a man with pure, clear aura like mine sprint past me, carrying the woman that I'd just been heading for. I watched in shock as the man stepped out the window before promptly leaping out, completely missing the fire escape. From what I could tell, both the man and the woman he was carrying survived the fall unscathed and were moving towards the ambulances. What on God's green earth... 

"Her child, Atticus! She's still in their room! Go!"

The unknown voice surprised me. Nobody, not even Antioch or Fell, had ever infiltrated my mind so completely without my consent. I prided myself on keeping an impeccable mental defense. But who or whatever it was, they were right; I could wonder about that later. The weak flicker of baby blue light coming from down the hall was more important.

I began running towards the struggling spirit, praying that it wasn't beyond saving.

The young girl was laying unconscious in the hall, separated from me by a wall of fire that by some miracle hadn't fully consumed her yet. her breathing was harsh and labored, and third degree burns covered her calves where the fire had begun to lick at her skin. I cursed and prepared to push through the flames.

"Paraliis."

My entire body froze, every muscle and joint tensing with a sudden and almost painful paralysis. The chill that ran down my spine had nothing to do with my immobility. This spell... it was Alchemy. I could feel it; the familiar essence of the magic that, until now, I thought was mine alone.

Impossible...

I grunted and strained against the invisible restraints, struggling to move forward. Panic began to set in as I watched the fire slowly climb up and over the girl's body, obscuring her entire lower half. The soft blue flicker of light began to dim.

"No... NO!!" I screamed hoarsely, coughing as I inadvertantly inhaled some of the acrid black smoke.

"You can't save her..." came a quiet whisper in my mind the second unwanted intruder of the night.

"Who are you?!" I roared as I struggled, my eyes still on the girl. My right eye, stinging from the heat and smoke, filled with helpless tears for the first time in years as I watched her light flicker and die. A wordless scream of rage tore from my throat as I stood there, unable to do anything as her life force leaked away.  
"WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?!" 

"You can't save her... And no one is coming to save you."

I stopped. My breath caught, eyes widening as I recognized the unmistakable voice from my vision. 

"Reisa."

I was yanked violently into the air and thrown backwards as the voice commanded, with so much force that my back hit the wall at the end of the hallway. I felt the entire building shake upon impact, the structural integrity so fragile now that it wouldn't have taken much more to bring it down. I screamed as the burning wall pressed against my back, once again unable to move. 

"L-Letta!" I managed to gasp. I dropped limply to the floor, hissing as my non-prosthetic hand and leg met with the fire below. Once again, just because the fire didn't burn me didn't mean I couldn't feel the heat. I quickly shot off the floor to see a menacing figure standing not four feet away from me.

 

"Impressive," said the form before me. I hadn't noticed his accent before. Faint as it was, it was definitely there: English. Like me. He was more shadow than man, his features hidden in darkness despite the unbearable brightness of the fire. He seemed to be impervious to the flames, standing there calmly as the world fell apart around us.

"Long time no see, Oliver... you've changed," he observed quietly, stepping casually to the side as a flaming chunk of the ceiling fell beside him. I crouched into a defensive position and began charging my power. 

"I don't have time for this! Move!" I snarled, flaring my aura to its full capacity, "Before I have to move you!" 

The man tilted his head. "But why? She's dead." 

Heart sinking, I looked behind him towards the end of the hall. The girl's body was completely obscured by the fire... and her light was gone. Righteous anger boiled in my chest, causing my aura to flare even higher.

"WHO ARE YOU?! HOW DO YOU KNOW MY NAME?!" I yelled over the fire, holding out my false hand palm out; this seemed like a good time for target practice.

"ANSWER ME!" I screamed when he didn't reply. He tilted his head again. 

"Jierda."

With a single word, I was thrown back even more violently than the first time, sending my body blasting completely through the outer wall of the top floor and into a nosedive toward the street below.


	13. 13

Anti's POV: 

I watched and waited across the street as the apartment complex continued to burn, brushing off the Paramedic who were trying to get me to sit down. Fortunately, they eventually gave up and ran off to help people who actually needed it. 

I was starting to worry about Atticus. Where was he? It shouldn't take this long just to save one girl...

"Andy!" 

I turned at the sound of my fake name to see a familiar face jogging over. I grinned.  
"Sup, Chief?"

 

The old police Chief's bushy eyebrows drew together in a severe frown that wrinkled his weathered face even more.   
"Thought I told you to call me Jensen, boy," he snapped grouchily. I shrugged. 

"Well, you know me," I said simply, "I'm a sucker for ceremony." 

"Looks to me like you got a lot more to suck on right now," he retorted grimmly, motioning to the ravaged building that had been our home thirty minutes ago. 

Los Angeles Police Chief Jensen Calloway was a man that Atticus and I were well aquainted with. We'd first met the old man a little over four years before when he popped by to drop Atticus off after his first of many arrests. He was only twelve; they grow up so fast.   
Unfortunately (or fortunately depending on how you look at it) the incident turned into more than a routine arrest. Since punching someone is only a misdemeanor and Atticus was a minor with no previous offenses, Jensen ended up taking him in for a scolding before driving him over to the apartment. I would have picked the kid up myself, but I was a little preoccupied with a particularly bitchy wraith. When I got back to the apartment, I was presented with the shock of a lifetime...

____________________________________

Four years earlier:

Too exhausted to shadow cloak any longer, I was forced to trudge the remaining block back to the apartment on foot, trying my best to ignore the shocked stares I got from passers by. I knew I must have looked fucking awful; tattered clothes hanging on by mere threads as I slouched down the street, covered in dirt, bruises, sweat and blood. I was just thanking my lucky stars that no one had called the cops on me yet... but then I saw it.

Shit. Spoke too soon.

Right there, right in front of my fucking apartment building, was a mother fucking cop car. And beside that car stood a nervous- looking Atticus and one pissed-off Officer of the law. 

Double shit.

What the hell did that little shit do? He was only twelve for fuck's sake!   
I was just starting to back away down the street when Atticus noticed my energy from down the street and began to turn towards me. 

Don't you friggin' dare, I hissed at him silently. To my relief, immediately stiffened and turned back. But it was too late; the officer noticed the movement. Before I could back away around the corner, he followed Atticus' gaze and spotted me, prompting me to freeze in my tracks. The old man pulled a weird rectangular device out of his pocket, pressed a button, and pointed it at me. His eyes narrowed and shot back to me as the thing began to emit an annoying warbly tone. 

"You with the Resistance or the House?" He growled. 

My jaw hit the ground. It was a good ten seconds before I recovered from my shock and composed myself enough to answer. 

"You first, buddy. What the hell is that walkie-talkie thing in your hand?" I asked suspiciously as I approached. 

"It's an EMP. Not that it's any of your business. Answer the damn question," he growled.

I reached him and casually leaned against his car, crossing my arms. "Neither one. Not that it's any of your business. EMP's aren't supposed to detect anything but Beasts, you know," I informed him.

He scowled. "They can if you know what you're doin'. You a Demon, boy?" 

I bristled at his words; I was under the impression that he already knew.   
"...Maybe," I admitted slowly. "You a hunter?" 

"Nope." 

We stared at each other for a tense couple of seconds before Atticus finally spoke up. 

"Um... excuse me officer," he said quietly, "but maybe we should take this inside before we draw any more attention to the issue." 

The two of us glanced around to see a small group of curious passers-by gathering across the street, muttering amongst themselves. I looked back at the cop. 

"He's got a point. Unless you want the whole city in on the secret, we've gotta get out of sight."  
With that, I turned and began moving towards the apartment stairs, motioning for Atticus to follow me.   
"We're going inside," I called over my shoulder, "Whether or not you wanna come with is up to you."

After a moment of hesitation, he did just that, grumbling the whole way up. We ended up sitting across from each other in our living room, with me and Atticus on the couch and him in the armchair. An uncomfortable silence took over the room for a solid minute as we stared each other down.

"Would you... like some tea?" Atticus asked hesitantly. I sighed. 

"Now's not the time for your bloody British antics, kid," I said wearily. 

"You know what? I think I'd love some tea," The cop said, drawing a scowl from me. "You got Earl Grey?" 

Atticus immediately brightened. "Sure! It's one of my favorites!" 

"Thanks, Atticus." 

"No problem Jensen," Atticus rejoined politely. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes; fuckin' Britts, man. 

"Are we on a first name basis now, officer?" I asked snarkily. The cop just shrugged.

"I suppose so," he agreed. Then his eyes narrowed again.   
"You wanna tell me what you're doin' in my town, boy?" 

"Okay. First of all, I'm older than you. Jesus could've been in my graduating class. Secondly, it's none of your God damn-" 

"We're not doing anything," Atticus cut in as he entered from the kitchen carrying two mugs of tea. He handed one to 'Jensen' before plopping down on the couch next to me and taking a small sip of his own drink. 

"We needed a place to live; we just happened to pick this one," he continued. 

Jensen's eyebrows rose. "Are you serious?" 

"As a Knight," I confirmed, "But tell me why I shouldn't just have Atticus here erase your memory and send you on your way?" 

"That could put him in a coma, for one," Atticus supplied, "and besides, his wife is a Witch. Even if there was no lasting brain damage, she'd be sure to notice that something was amiss." 

"Hey! Stay outta my head!" Jensen snapped angrily. 

"Sorry... it's a reflex," Atticus said sheepishly. 

"So that's how you know all this stuff. So how'd you land a Witch?" I asked in amusement. 

"Nunya. Now unless you want me to call her over, you better start talkin,'" he threatened, jabbing his finger in our direction.   
"What's your story?" 

____________________________________

Present day: 

We ended up telling him the entire thing, from the moment I met Jericho to the moment we met him. After that, we'd formed a sort of mutually beneficial relationship. Anytime the cops were called on Atticus, he was the one to bring him over. In return, Atticus and I worked for him behind the scenes, taking care of any Paranormal issues that the human law enforcement couldn't handle. All things considered, it was a pretty sweet gig, and it allowed us to stay out of trouble. About a year after we met, Jensen Calloway and his wife, Cecilia (we called her Cici) adopted a young street rat named Cardarius that was a year older than Atticus. The two kids hit it off and pretty much became best friends. 

"You have somethin' to do with this?" Jensen asked gruffly, crossing his arms as he stared me down. 

I feigned shock, putting a hand to my chest and taking a quick step back.   
"Me?! Well I never! Whatever gave you that idea?!" 

"Yeah, I thought as much," James sighed, pinching the bridged of his nose. "You can fill me in on the details later. Atticus okay? Cardarius is looking for him."

"Yeah, he's fine... I think."   
I glanced at the building briefly as I spoke, questioning my words even as I said them. James' eyes widened as he followed my gaze.

"Are you tellin' me that boy's still in there?!" He shouted, prompting stares from the people in our immediate vicinity. This time I actually did take a step back, letting out a nervous chuckle.

"Hey now, he can take care of himself..." I protested meekly. I tried to ignore the guilt trip that his glare was inducing. 

"You've gotta be the worst 'father' I ever seen," he growled. 

Ouch. 

"I... can't say anything in my defense," I muttered scratching the back of my head. 

Jensen opened his mustached mouth to chastise me further when an enourmous explosion drew both of us away from the argument. 

There were shouts and screams as the building began to violently fold in on itself with a deafening roar of defeat. And there, right in front of all the chaos, a limp body was free-falling towards the street several stories below. 

Oh God no.

"ATTICUS!!" 

I started running before the scream had even left my throat, shoving Paramedics and policemen alike out of my way as I raced past them to save the one thing in the world I cared about. Oh God, oh fuck, I wasn't gonna make it!! I was just in the process of cloaking when a black blur shot out from the alleyway beside the crumbling building and slammed into atticus just before he hit the ground. 

A black blur with a royal blue aura and a head blonde curly hair that I knew all too well.

I skidded to a halt halfway across the street as my semi-dissolved body pulled itself together, taking in the figure that held Atticus' limp form with wide eyes. Jensen caught up to me a second later, huffing and puffing with the exertion of running just a few yards. 

"Did he just...?" The chief began hesitantly. 

I nodded grimly, my jaw clenching. "Yeah. Get ready; I know this mother fucker," I warned him. I heard Jensen cock his gun behind me as I began stalking forward, shouldering through the crowd of people that had gathered when Atticus had begun to fall. I vaguely registered a couple people yelling to clear the area, but I ignored all of that, intent on the familiar figure silhouetted by the smoldering flames. 

"Drop the kid, Arioch," I snarled.


	14. 14

Arioch is pronounced air- ee- ock.   
Carry on. 

Anti's POV:

"Drop the kid, Arioch," I snarled. 

The man didn't move. He just stood there in a grim trance, staring at Atticus' unconcious body in his arms and giving no indication that he'd heard me. His head was tilted down so that his hair fell forward, casting a shadow over his eyes. I heard Jensen yelling at his underlings to hold their fire, so I began to gather my power discreety so as not to alarm the uninitiated. 

"Hey! You hear me, space cadet?!" I shouted again, taking a threatening step forward.   
Without any warning whatsoever, the bastard suddenly shoved Atticus towards me so that I was knocked back, forced to take the blow to prevent his fall. He bolted while I was distracted, dashing down the street and into an alleyway. 

"Ah, shit- mother fucker!!" I hissed in frustration. I quickly lowered Atticus to the ground before jumping over him to pursue Arioch.   
"Stay back!" I shot over my shoulder at Jensen, relieved when he called his officers back despite their confused protests. I skidded to a stop at the mouth of the alleyway, crouched in a battle stance and ready for anything. After a quick look behind me to make absolutely sure I wasn't followed by any cops or normies, I summoned my mace and strode forward into the narrow alley. 

"How are you still alive, Ari?" I called out, using my old vessel's nickname, "I saw you die right before I kicked my first bucket. I should know; I killed you myself." 

I scanned my surroundings with narrowed eyes as I moved deeper into the shadows, searching carefully for any sign of movement. I could still feel his energy, so he hadn't left the area. Unfortunately, he was doing a pretty good job of cloaking his exact location, so I couldn't do much more than wait to see what he would do. 

I waited, growing more and more restless with each passing second.   
And then, finally: 

"...I'm not Arioch." 

I whirled around, trying to pinpoint the direction his voice had come from. But, once again, he had successfully hidden his location, probably with some kind of sound wave manipulation. Pretty high level stuff; I was almost impressed. 

"Come on, I'd know your stupid boy scout face anywhere," I snapped agitatedly.

"Well, I was an eagle scout. Troop five twenty-seven; good times," he retorted amicably.   
As pissed as I was, I was beginning to suspect that this may not be Arioch after all. It would be impossible. No human can live that long, especially with a slit throat. And I had switched vessels after I killed him, so I knew for a fact that he had to be dead. Besides, if this really was Arioch, he'd probably be performing the 'love not war' speech he seemed to love so much, not making snarky quips.   
Knowing that it probably wasn't him left me considerably less freaked out, but I was still suspicious. 

"Okay... maybe I was mistaken," I grudgingly admitted.

"Don't be so hard on yourself, you were only off by two thousand years," The little shit teased. 

I scowled. "Yeah, well you're not off the hook yet, pal. You obviously know who I am, and from the way you were talking just now, I'd say you know who Arioch was too. What say you level the playing field and show yourself, huh?"

"Do I hear a please?"

"Fuck no." 

"Rude." 

I whirled around, brandishing my mace as a definitive presence materialized behind me. The man from before grinned and threw his hands up in a gesture of mock surrender as the business end of my mace halted centimeters from his neck. My eyes widened as I was struck by how much he truly did resemble Arioch. It was uncanny.

 

"Chivalry is truly dead, I see," the man chuckled, pissing me off further. 

"I want a name. Now," I demanded. I pressed the tip of one of my mace's spikes to his throat for emphasis. 

"Ow! Geez, okay!" He gave in with a wince as a small bead of blood welled up on his neck. 

"My name is Atticus; Atticus Saul."


	15. 15

Anti's POV:

"Atticus; Atticus Saul," The man answered with a smirk. I nearly dropped my mace. 

"Wait, what?" I asked dumbly. 

In the next second, he was somehow out of arm's reach on the other side of the alley. He winked, shot me a cheeky salute, and then...

He was gone. 

"What in the actual factual fuck...?" I whispered. 

"Andy!" 

I almost literally jumped out of my skin at the shout and the sound of approaching footfalls behind me.

"Hey, Cardarius," I greeted with a sigh, letting my weapon dissolve into the air as I turned to face the teenager. 

 

"Good to see you're alright, bro," He asked after the customary little hand shake/ back slap thing he always did.   
"C'mon; Atticus sent me to find you." 

I nodded shortly and followed him back into the crowded street, not in the mood to say anything. I cringed at the deafening sounds of the panicked crowd as we moved forward, pushing through Paramedics, cops, and firefighters as they struggled to keep everyone calm. We had to stop several times as Ambulances took off towards the hospital a couple blocks away, only for more to appear in their place. It was so bad that it took us literally two minutes to finally push through the pandemonium and ford the haphazard street.

"I see them!" Cardarius said finally, picking up the pace and transitioning to a light jog as we broke through the worst of the chaos. I followed his gaze and was relieved to see Jensen and Atticus standing a little ways off from the crowd. Atticus was grimmly staring off into space, lost in his thoughts.

"You okay, kid?" I asked when we reached them. 

I didn't like what I saw when his gaze shot to mine. His eyes were haunted, ridden with guilt and grief and fear. I almost took a step back in surprise; I hadn't seen him this way in a long, long time. Angry? All the damn time. Nervous? Maybe around a cute girl. But this... this was something else besides his raging teenage hormones. 

"...Yeah," Atticus looked away. 

"Are you sure?" 

"Yeah." 

"Are you lying?" 

"Yeah." 

"...wanna talk about it?" 

"Nope." 

"I don't know what I expected," I sighed. Atticus gave a huff and fell back into his moody silence. There was a moment or two of awkward silence before anyone spoke. 

"How 'bout we get outta here and get you two some new digs?" Cardarius suggested, jerking his head to indicate the burnt rags hanging off our bodies that had once been our clothes, "I mean, don't get me wrong, you two look great. Very Avant-garde," he teased, drawing a wry chuckle from Jensen.

"What, you don't think we could start our own clothing line? I can see it now: Deep-Fried Chic," I said with mocking ambition.   
"But yeah, you're right; not very practical. Where's the nearest Gucci?" 

"The nearest Goodwill," Jensen cut in sternly, "is on the Other side of town. I'll get Cici to cart some stuff over. In the meantime..." He handed Cardarius a twenty, "Pick a spot around here to get a quick bite while you wait for her to pick you up."

I found myself smiling as Atticus slightly perked up at the mention of free junk food. 

"Oh, hell yeah!" Cardarius crowed happily. Atticus had recovered and was already moping again by the time his friend turned to grin at him. Moody little shit.   
Then again, I guessed our current situation would make anyone a little grumpy. 

"You boys best keep the arson to a minimum while you're out," Jensen called to us as we headed off. Something in his tone told me he was only half joking.


	16. 16

Atticus' POV:

My head spun as I struggled to process the happenings of the past hour. I'd lost so much; my home was a smoldering pile of soot and ash. Nearly six years of careful research was burnt to a crisp. Half my hand-crafted arsenal was destroyed, each weapon either melted, burned, or set off by the flames. 

But I could deal with all of that. It would take years, but I'd bounce back. There was nothing I'd lost that day that couldn't be replaced with time.   
But when it came to the death of a mortal soul... the same could never be said. Human life is irreplaceable and immeasurably delicate, so easy to snuff out from one instant to the next. And Once a light goes out, it's out for good. Every single life is unique and precious and so, so temporary, just a fleeting wisp in the context of the universe. It was my duty to protect them, my duty to shepherd and shield them from the danger they couldn't see.

And I had failed. 

Maybe I was being too hard on myself. I knew that was exactly what Anti would say, anyway. I gave everything I had to perform a service that no one even knew to call for, recklessly hurling myself into the line of fire time and time again without any acknowledgment or reward. I committed my heart and soul everyday to the cause; if every last bit of my strength wasn't enough to win a battle, then there's obviously nothing I could have done, right? I should be able to let go of the loss, move on, and start taking the necessary steps to prevent myself from making the same mistakes. Right? 

Wrong. So wrong that it was almost laughable. My urge to shoulder grief that wasn't even mine was an inescapable vice that I was unconsciously addicted to. I knew it was a habit that would probably end up killing me in the end; I also knew that I would be cursed with the weight of that girl's casualty for the rest of my depression-prone life. I was a damn teenager for fuck's sake!

'Why can't my biggest problem be asking a girl to prom instead of killing one?' I mourned silently to myself. 

Though it wasn't at all my fault so much as that faceless bastard that seemed so intent on torturing me. The appearance of that hooded figure had been almost as disturbing as all that he'd taken from me in the past hour.   
It was obvious enough that he was the one who sent that monster and cast the cursed flames that had cost me my home, my research, and my security. 

Even more unsettling was the fact that he knew me, knew who I used to be. Who was he that he should be so well acquainted with my past? His accent suggested that he was an Englishman as well; could we have crossed paths years ago when I still lived in Britain? 

And... how much more did he know?

"Hey! Earth to Attie!" 

I was yanked out of my brooding and back into reality when Cardarius snapped his fingers smartly in front of my face. 

"What?" I snapped irritably, looking up to see that both he and Anti were staring at me. Cardarius looked concerned; Anti just looked mildly annoyed. 

"Sorry. You were spacing out, dude," Cardarius said apologetically.   
"We decided to stop at the Sunset Strip; Maglieau's sound good to you?" He asked, raising his eyebrows in a way that told me he was hoping I'd say yes.  
I thought about it for a momrnt before nodding. I was actually famished, and I decided a Cheese steak Po' boy sounded pretty good.

"...I suppose I could go for Cajun," I agreed. Cardarius clapped his hand over my shoulder as we began walking towards our destination at the far end of the strip mall. 

"Look, I know we've kinda been making light of the situation. Chalk it up to unhealthy coping-" he began. 

"Nah, I'm just an asshole," Anti shot over his shoulder. I ignored him. 

"But I just want you to know that me, Chief, and Cici are gonna help you guys out in any way we can," Cardarius finished. I managed a small smile. 

"I know. Thank you, my friend." 

"Speaking of helping, how 'bout you go and order the usual takeout for us?" Anti suggested to Cardarius, "As gorgeous as I am, I'd rather not go in there. We're getting enough stares as it is." 

He was right of course; every set of eyes seated in the outdoor area were trained intently on us. Hushed whispers accompanied the blatant stares, making me a more than a little self conscious. 

"Yeah, Good point. Be right back," Cardarius said before striding through the door. Anti turned to me as soon as he was gone. 

"Look. I know you're busy being all dark and and brooding and shit, but we seriously need to talk about this." 

I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose, mourning my oncoming headache. "Yes, I know. We both saw things back there that require our full attention, but please. Can this discussion wait until the two of us don't look and smell like homeless walking bonfires?" 

"Just sayin' man. By the way, where's bird brain?" He asked. "Is it too much to hope that he's a fried chicken?" 

I frowned and mentally reached out to search for an answer to his question. My frown quickly deepened into a scowl a few seconds later. "No, Ari is fine," I answered with an exhasperated eyeroll, "I sent him our location earlier, but he decided to wait at the Calloway's instead. Apparently the bird has better things to do than concern himself with our well being."

"Figures. This is why I'm a cat person," the Demon muttered. 

"You're not an animal person, period. You just say you're a cat person because you think you have to choose one." 

"Well I'm not a people person either, but I still hang out with you, don't I?" He retorted. I wasn't going to bother with a response, but the silence ended up being broken for me. 

"Atticus??"

I turned at the sound of my name to see a very familiar looking girl around my age (likely younger) staring at us, wide-eyed as she took in our bedraggled state. I squinted at her for a moment, trying to place her... then I remembered. It was the girl from yesterday. 

"Oh, um... good afternoon... you," I said awkwardly. 


	17. 17

Atticus' POV: 

"Hey... you," I finished lamely. I had a feeling that this was going to be painfully awkward. Actually, it was more of a fact than a feeling. Give me killer Wraiths, Demons, or a nest of Vamps and I was just dandy. Put me in any social situation that required any form of human interaction... and I was helplessly lost. 

"Real smooth, Romeo," Anti sent me sarcastically.

'Shut it!'

"Um... my name is Savannah. Nice to meet you... again, that is," The girl, Savannah, chuckled nervously. She held out her left hand for me to shake. I hesitated for a moment before extending my prosthetic left arm. She noticed, of course, but graciously said nothing of it. 

"You as well, Savannah. I'm sorry I didn't know your name," I apologized sheepishly. She shook her head and smiled. 

"It's no problem at all. I only know yours because I looked you up in the yearbook."   
She stopped and ducked her head, lifting her hand to the back of her neck.  
"Though now that I say it aloud, I sound like a bit of a loon..." she muttered. 

"No, not at all! I... I..." I trailed off, causing her to give me an odd look.

"Atticus?" 

As she lowered her hand, I had noticed something strange. Her right arm from the forearm down didn't quite fill out her sleeve, leaving the clothing hanging off her skin. Her hand was very slight and bony, and didn't hang down as far as her normal left one.   
The sight triggered a memory, a happy one. A happy little girl... her bright smile... that rosy light... 

"Atticus?" Savannah asked again, a little louder this time. I snapped back to attention. 

"Um... what? Oh, sorry," I said quickly, shaking my head to clear it. 

'You're a dork.'

"Shut up!" I hissed at Antioch, realizing too late that I'd spoken aloud by mistake.

Savannah's eyes widened. "E-Excuse me?" 

"Nonono, not you, I was..."   
Having no reasonable explanation to speak of, I fell into an embarrassed silence. This was humiliating. Luckily, Savannah recovered and took it in stride.

"I wasn't going to mention it, but... what happened to your... well, to you?" she motioned to our burnt and bedraggled clothes. 

I averted my gaze, considering whether or not to tell her. I didn't want her to be involved in any way with our troubles. I searched for some idea of what to say.  
"Well it's kind of a funny story actually..."

"Not really." 

I shot a warning glare at Antioch in response to his flippant tone, but it was too late; she'd noticed. 

"Oh, hello," Savannah said with a polite smile, leaning around me to extend her hand towards my pain-in-the-arse 'brother.' I reluctantly stepped aside to allow Antioch to take her hand.

I sighed. "Ugh. Savannah, this is-"

"Sup? Name's Andy, Atticus' big bro," Anti cut in with a charming smile as he shook her hand. I just barely suppressed an eyeroll. 

"It's... Nice to meet you, Andy," she said as she pulled her hand from his, "And what did you say happened to your clothes again?"

"Apartment just burned down," he answered matter-of-factly. My head whipped towards him in shock. 

"Antio- A-Andy!" I quickly corrected myself. I punched him in the shoulder before he could think to dodge, making him hiss and retreat as he rubbed his arm. 

Savannah's hand flew to her mouth as her eyes widened in shock and sympathy.   
"Oh my goodness, That's horrible!" She exclaimed, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, but he needs a hug. Ow, jeez!" Anti muttered as I elbowed him in the ribs. 

"Well if you need a place to stay, you're both welcome in my home," she offered kindly. I was quick to reply before Anti could make any more of a fool of himself. 

"We have a place, but thank you kindly. Um, About earlier this afternoon..." I began uncertainly.

"I'm sorry," Savannah blurted. My eyebrows rose. 

"For what? It was Chase being an arsehole, not you," I pointed out. 

"Not for that... for running off before the fight was over," she ammended.   
"I really should have stayed, but I got a tad nervous. I've never been in the middle of anything like that before... I didn't even think anyone payed me any mind, least of all a boy." 

I seriously doubted that; from what I'd seen, she was a lovely girl; beautiful, smart, intelligent... I had to shake myself back to reality before I actually started swooning over her myself. 

"You don't give yourself enough credit, Savannah. There will be better men than that wanker vying for your attention soon," I assured her. Odd; the thought made me slightly uncomfortable. 

'Ooo, does someone have a crush?' Anti sang. 

'Stay out of my head and I won't have to break yours.'

"Oh... really?" Savannah asked, suddenly looking nervous. Oh no, what did I say? 

Naturally... I panicked. 

"Sorry, I didn't mean- what I meant was...!" I stammered, trying to ignore Antioch's snickering. 

"I-It's okay. Really," she assured me.  
"Anyway... I know this is a little belated, but thanks for having my back at school today... even if it was a little melodramatic, taking your arm off and all," she chuckled.

I was relieved beyond measure at the change in subject. 

"No problem. I would never have done anything less for a lady," I said with a smile. 

"Oh, so you think all girls need saving?"

My smile dropped flat. "What? No! No, I just..." 

I was cut off when she started laughing.

"It's cool, I'm just messing with you!" She giggled.

"Oh." 

I breathed another sigh of relief; talking with this girl was wrecking me. 

"Listen, I'm kind of new here. If it's okay with you, maybe we could... study together sometime?" She asked hopefully before immediately backtracking, "I mean, if you don't mind! Don't feel obligated or anything..."

"No, I'd love that! Er, here, let me give you my mobile." 

I fumbled with my phone for a moment before finally managing to yank the damned thing out of my pocket... only to find that it had been fried in the fire. 

Great. 

"Here, just enter in a number I can reach you at," she supplied, graciously holding her own phone out for me to use. I smiled gratefully at her before going to her contacts. I caught a glimpse of her background as I did so; it was a picture of her and two older women that I was assuming were her parents at a theme park somewhere. I found myself becoming slightly envious. They looked so... happy.

I entered my backup cell that I kept at Cardarius' place before handing it back to her. She smiled. 

"On that note, I'd better get going," she said as she turned to walk away. 

"You too," I said with a wave. Savannah just giggled in response. She was already out of earshot before I realized what I'd said. 

"Oh my God..." I groaned, hiding my heated face behind my hands. Anti doubled over in wild laughter, holding his stomach. 

"H-Holy... mother... of fuck," he managed to gasp in between his guffaws, "That was the funniest God-damn thing I've ever seen in my life!" 

"I'm going to murder you in your sleep," I muttered. 

I chanced one last glance at her before she rounded the corner down the street. I only saw her for a few seconds, but the way she was walking... was that... a false leg?

The second I saw that, I started to remember. My mind was once again whisked back to a time long before I'd even met Antioch, back when I was still in that damned orphanage. I belatedly started putting the pieces together in my head. Her leg, her arm, her accent... even her age matched up. Everything about her reminded me of... 

 

"Sarah..." I breathed.


	18. 18

Atticus' POV: 

I couldn't believe it. I stood there for a good thirty seconds, jaw slack and eyes wide as Antioch continued chortling away behind me. What were the chances? One in a million? A billion? I really, really couldn't believe it...

But I really, really wanted to. 

I had never believed in fate. In fact, I found the notion to be ridiculous; The very idea of my life being controlled by the stars aligning by the will of some cosmic, universal entity or entities made me cringe. But if it really was her, it couldn't be mere coincidence. It might not have been a God, or the universe, or the stars laughably aligning... but it was no accident. No, this was somehow by someone else's design. Someone, somewhere, had guided us together. 

Someone who knew us. 

My thoughts turned to her brother, Solomon. He had been my best friend, and the most fiercely loyal person I knew. He may have been forced to forget me, but he would never, ever abandon his little sister. And there was no trace of him in that picture of Sarah and her adoptive mothers... so what in God's name could have happened to my dearest friend? 

I was brought back to reality by a hand on my shoulder. I looked up to see that Antioch was no longer laughing, having traded his hilarity for deep concern. 

"I know that look, kid. what's up?" He asked softly. I blinked, clearing my face of emotion. 

"I'll tell you when we get back to the house," I muttered as I carefully scanned the area from the streets to the rooftops.  
"I wasn't sure before, but I think someone- or something- is watching us. Specifically me. I know neither of us can sense them, but... it's a possibility that they could be watching us right now." 

Antioch paused before nodding in understanding. He removed his hand from my shoulder and crossed his arms.   
"Alright kid. I trust you." 

"Who was that?" Cardarius asked as he walked up behind us with the takeout bags. Antioch, who hadn't yet made the connection between 'Savannah' and my sudden caution, smirked. 

"Atticus' girlfriend," he said. I shot him an annoyed look.   
"Atticus' friend... who happens to be a girl. Just to clarify," he ammended teasingly.

"Antioch..." I growled warningly. 

Cardarius looked surprised. "You made a friend? Really?"

"Maybe... wait, am I really that much of a recluse?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at his shocked tone. 

"Well..."

"You really want us to answer that?" Antioch grinned, drawing a snort from Cardarius. 

"I have you two and the calloways, don't I?" I protested defensively. I crossed my arms.   
"I don't have time for more."

"I'm kind of default, and we ran into the calloways by accident," the Demon bluntly pointed out. I scowled. 

"Well, at least I'm not going anywhere," Cardarius said, throwing an arm around my shoulder, "I'm like your own personal barnacle!" He declared. 

"Lovely," I grumbled.   
"On that note, our chariot approaches." 

A shiny black '59 Cadillac Coup de'ville pulled smoothly up into the parking space nearest to us, engine purring. The black tinted window on the driver's side rolled down, making room for a familiar grinning face to lean out of the car. 

 

"Yoohoo!" Cecilia Calloway called with an elegant wave and her usual charming smile, paying no mind to the bemused stares she drew from the five o'clock Maglieau's crowd. Personally, I think she reveled in the attention. 

"Hop in boys! I laid out some towels on the back seat," she said sweetly as we approached, "you two look like a couple-a scraggly jays." 

"And you look elegant as always, ma'am," I returned, leaning in to kiss her hand before I got in. 

"You flirtin' with me boy?" She asked in her vintage southern drawl, lips quirking upward despite herself.

"But of course." 

"Little scamp." 

"Alright, geez, we get it!" Antioch cut in grouchily as he shut his door, "The kid's a charmer. Can we get going already?"

Cici raised a snarky eyebrow at him in the rearview mirror.  
"That reminds me; put these on."   
A baby pink button-down shirt flew back and draped itself over his face, followed by a pair of striped slacks of the same color. A black t-shirt and faded jeans followed, landing neatly in my lap. Anti ripped the offending garments off his face and fixed Cici with an annoyed look. 

"Pink? Really?" He asked dryly. She shrugged. 

"Payback for missin' my twenty second birthday," she said as Cardarius and I chuckled. She rolled her eyes at Antioch's confusion.   
"A hundred and twenty second. Keep up, would ya? Don't make me jinx you, boy," she warned as he opened his mouth to protest. She sassily lifted a glowing middle finger to emphasize her threat. Antioch grumbled under his breath and changed as the rest of us burst out laughing. 

I regretted losing my home, but crashing with the Calloways didn't sound so bad.


	19. 19

Atticus' POV:

"That was terrifying," I groaned as the door to the Calloway's appartment closed behind us with a startling bang. I really needed yo get around to fixing those hinges...

"Well you'd think you'd be used to it by now," Cici answered curtly, hanging her coat and purse neatly on the rack by the door.   
"'Sides, my drivin' isn't that bad; I know what I'm doin.' You're alive, ain'tcha?" 

"Yeah, but we almost died. Twice!" Antioch pointed out. He held up two fingers to emphasize his point as he threw himself into the armchair in the corner, exhausted from the roller coaster that was Mrs. Calloway's driving. Cardarius and I took the couch and did the same. 

"Come on now, you're durable," The Witch teased. 

He pouted at her reply, drawing a snort from me. "You should be proud, Cici. I think you might be the only person in the world who can make a Demon queasy without an actual fight," I said, thoroughly amused despite my own nausea.  
The rest of us laughed as Anti scowled and pushed out of the armchair. 

"Ugh, whatever. I'm gonna tip off the Hunters," he shot over his shoulder as he stomped towards the hallway. He stopped and considered something before turning back to us.   
"Actually, we should probably let the Lexicon know too. Have you guys-" 

"Nah, it's cool; X already knows," Cardarius assured him, "He actually called me while we were still at the scene. I think there was a watcher stationed pretty close to you guy's place." 

"Ew, I'm sorry. That vader voice is creepier over the phone," Anti shuddered. He turned away and moved down the hallway.   
"Be right back." 

"I'm gonna go get dinner started while you boys take care of business," Cici said. She clapped her hands and rubbed them together as she plastered a devious look on her face.   
"I've got some concoctions prepared for you my pretties..." she cackled in her classic wicked Witch impression. I could almost feel Anti roll his eyes from the next room. 

Cardarius shook his head in exasperation. "She knows I hate it when she does that," he muttered. 

"I think that's why she does it," I chuckled. 

"Anyway... down to business," Cardarius said, suddenly serious.   
"Psycho and Schitzo are already on the case-" 

"What?!" I exclaimed angrily, "That's complete rubbish! It was my apartment that burned down!" 

He held up his hands in a placating gesture. "I know, I know.  But X thinks we'd be better off working a different case." 

"Great. And what would that be?" I asked grouchily. Cardarius was silent for a moment. 

"The one at Whitney High." 

___________________________________

 

Anonymous  
Anonymous is a decentralized international "hacktivist" group with values that often border on anarchic. They are widely known for their various D-DOS cyber attacks against several governments, government institutions and agencies, corporate entities and power regimes. Anonymous members practice internet vigilantism in a number of ways, battling censorship and cyber-surveillance from those in power for the good of the common man.

Anonymous is in no way affiliated with the shadow group Anonymous X.

Anonymous X   
Founded in 2015, Anonymous X operates under the same principles in the Paranormal world as the original anonymous does in plain view, but in a much more organized and savvy fashion. Members of Anonymous X are called "Dark Anons," most of which began as normal Anonymous members who just happened to stumble into the darker side of things. A small percentage of them may have completed the cicada 1301 challenge for their initiation.  The founders of Anonymous X, like most of the dark anons, operate from the shadows with code names only. These mysterious entities are known only as X, Y, and Z. Though they are clearly still active, their true identities and locations remain undiscovered to this day.   
Anonymous X works closely with the hunters and their various divisions when they see fit.

DIVISIONS:

The Lexicon  
These entities are the generals of anonymous, the topmost on the chain of command. The founder and his or her's two lieutenants are known as the "Lexicon Primes." The primes, known only as X, Y, and Z, give directives to the twenty four lower Lexicons. The lower Lexicons are given titles derived from the greek alphabet, such as Alpha, Beta, and Gamma, and are each in charge of separate sectors of the United States. These titles are added on to their original codenames. Example: Alpha Renegade.

The Anons  
The Anons occupy fifty percent of the Anonymous workforce. These operatives are master hackers that specialize in the viral internet vigilantism that Anonymous is famous for. 

Watchers  
The watchers are non-combative field operatives. Making up thirty percent of the Anonymous workforce, they act as sentinals, blending in with the crowd and watching closely for threats to report back to their respective Lexicons. The more densely populated the area, the more watchers that are posted. It's not uncommon for fifty or more  to be placed in cities like New York or Los Angeles.  
They can be found in a variety of places such as alleyways, rooftops, bus stops and subways. If you know where to look, how to approach them, and what codewords to use when addressing them, they also serve as guides to bases and will give you coded tips and warnings.

Crows  
The Crows are best described as Anonymous special ops. Comparable to the Resistance Elite, this task force is strictly combative, carrying out orders from the Lexicon and negating threats spotted by the Anons and Watchers. They occasionally assist hunters and exonerated as well as the Magistrate.

FAMOUS CROWS:  
Shockwave, Renegade, and Glitch (Cardarius, Atticus, and Anti)  
Machete  
Edge  
Vortex  
Fawkes  
Shakedown  
Zombie  
Dynamo & Domino  
Psycho & Schitzo  
Cavalier  
Eastwood  
Jester  
Bandit  
Sheik

FAMOUS ANONS  
Sidewinder  
Genesis & Exodus  
Tower   
Phantom  
Apollo  
Oracle  
Agent Orange  
Acid

THE LEXICON  
X, Y, AND Z  
Alpha: sidewinder  
Beta: Exodus  
Gamma: downpour  
Delta: Seraph  
Epsilon: Delphi  
Eta: harpy  
Theta: Ricochet   
Iota: Genisis  
Kappa; Crown  
Lambda: accrobat  
Ethel: Lotus  
Ash: Comet  
Zi: Riddler  
Omicron: Frost  
Pi; Baron  
Rho: Falcon  
Sigma: Phantom  
Tau: Kenobi  
Upsilon: Halo  
Phi; Perigrine  
Chi: Tower  
Psi: Condor  
Omega: Excaliber

Relations:  
Hunters: Allies  
Resistance: Enemies  
The exonerated: Neutral  
The house: Enemies  
The magistrate: Neutral.

Cicada 3301  
Cicada 3301 is a nickname given to an intricate series of puzzles, ciphers, and obscure clues tha were posted online on three separate occasions to possibly recruit codebreakers, hackers, and linguists from the public into Anonymous X. The first internet puzzle started on January 4, 2012, and ran for approximately one month. Multiple puzzles followed until they came to a halt in 2016. The stated intent was to recruit "intelligent individuals" by presenting a series of puzzles which were to be solved.  
The general public has no idea that Anonymous X is involved. 

"We are Anonymous. We are Legion. We are human. We do not forgive. We do not forget. Expect us."


	20. 20

West Europa, 68 A.D.

As it turned out, it wasn't bad at all. Comforted by the familiar, smiling faces that he knew so well, Arioch took a deep breath and stepped into the middle of the circle as his father directed. 

Antioch found himself having to calm his nerves as well. He reminded himself that these humans were a peaceful people, and were as loyal as they were loving; They would never, ever harm one of their own, even if it meant their own death. Though he was reluctant to admit it, that quality was something he'd always admired. If only it was for him and not his prison...

As the surrounding participants began softly chanting, both beings inhabiting Arioch's body found their fear melting away, reassured by the encouraging smiles. Though the young boy and his Demon didn't fully understand the strange, alien words, they could clearly catch their meaning: they were being welcomed, born again  into an entirely new world. They were being entrusted with an age- old secret passed down from generation to generation, and now finally to them. It was an honor beyond imagining that filled Arioch with pride and love for his family and their promise.   
Antioch felt the same; he couldn't help but be swept away by the soothing power coursing through them, couldn't help but forget his prison... 

After the mysterious ritual, there was a great celebration accompanied by a hearty feast. It was clear that Arioch's family had spared no expense for the occasion; every one of them must have saved up for months to pay for such an extravagance. Arioch suppressed the urge to apologize for the trouble, instead thanking each and every one of them for their support. 

Over the course of the party, Arioch and Antioch were told many fantastic tales about the creatures who lurked in the dark and the warriors who bravely battled them. He was told of an ancient Druid and a man named Abel, and of a grand war that lasted many millenia and was still progressing even to this day on a smaller and less noticable scale. 

He was enraptured and inspired by the things he heard; the thought that he, a simple craftsman, could make a real difference in people's lives, that he could play a role in this sacred battle against the evils of the world... He was overjoyed.

Antioch felt something as well, something entirely new: hope. Hope for himself and his destiny. 

Could he do the same? Could he really be appreciated, really matter to people someday, just like Arioch? He'd heard about the Demon's binding to the humans from Arioch's relatives, so he knew that he would one day be released into the world with a body of his own. Maybe... just maybe there was a chance that he could... 

Then he remembered what they'd said about Demons. How they were deplorable, pitiless creatures who had no empathy or love, had no purpose but to cause destruction for their own sake. He wanted so badly to deny it; He knew, somewhere in his heart that it wasn't true, that he was different. Even though he was trapped in another body, he had grown to love the humans. He was fond of their kindness, their compassion, their affection towards him... or rather, towards Arioch. But even Demons could dream... couldn't they? 

Antioch's dreams were hopelessly crushed in an instant as he realized that he would never be accepted by the humans. They would never abandon their beliefs. They would never, not for a second, believe that a Demon could be good. 

Maybe he should just accept his fate.


	21. 21

Atticus' POV:

I blinked. 

Then I blinked again.

"Whitney?" I asked flatly. "Our Whitney?"

Cardarius nodded solemnly, leaning towards me. "Yeah, dude. Get this: Turns out the lexicon has reason to believe that miss Jackson- stay with me here- is a Resistance operative. Maybe even an Elite."

I sat up straight, eyes widening in shock. "A spy? On what grounds? And for what possible purpose!?"

"If it's true... I think you can guess her motive," Cardarius said gravely. 

"...Us." 

"Nah, prolly just you. I'm smalltime in Anon X, but you?" He sat back and fixed me with a serious look.   
"I dunno if you know, but You're kinda a big deal." 

I rolled my eyes. "It's not exactly a beneficial claim to fame. This is extremely disturbing news; if she knows who I am..." I shook my head, "then there's no doubt that she knows who Antioch is, despite his glamour." 

"Yeah... witness protection isn't the best in our world," Cardarius agreed with a shrug. He gave me a look. "You think she knows about you're whole... thing you got goin' on?" 

"I would certainly hope not," I sighed, "But it's unlikely in any case. Less than a handful of people know about my abilities, and I can't see any one of them revealing my secrets. I hardly talk about it behind closed doors for fear of my house being bugged... though I suppose that's not exactly an issue anymore," I muttered glumly.

Cardarius leaned over and slapped my back, making me jump. "Hey, cheer up! My house is perfectly buggable," he declared.

"Hm. Speaking of, I really need to check into that..." 

"Already taken care of." 

Cardarius and I turned as Cici sauntered into the room. "The only one buggin' anything in this house is you, boy," she snarked. 

"Ooo, she throwin' shaaaaade!" Cardarius quipped with a grin and a light punch to my shoulder. 

"You make it easy, honey. Dinner's ready you two; three cheese eye-of-newt casserole, my specialty!" She proclaimed, twirling back to sashay into the dining room.

"I can't tell you how glad I am that you're joking," Cardarius muttered as he got up to follow, smiling despite himself. I was about to do the same when Antioch returned from the hallway.

"Yeah, that'd be for the best," he said into the phone.   
"Be careful, and more importantly, be discreet... Yeah, you too... will do. I'll see you later, Connie."

"Connie as in Connie and James in New Mexico? Why so far away?" I asked. Antioch placed the phone back in his baby pink pocket. Though I'd never risk my neck by saying it aloud, He actually looked quite good in pink.

"If Darth X himself is putting you two on the case, then I'm willing to bet that this is more serious than it looks. I phoned a couple Hunters from this and the surrounding states too so they know what's up." 

"Actually... I'm afraid that 'Shockwave and Renegade' will be sitting this one out," I sighed. Anti looked surprised. 

"Wait. Really? But it was our apartment!" He exclaimed. 

"Yes, I know; I'll explain in a minute," I assured him.   
"What about Mikhail and the others?"

"Who do you think I called first?" Anti scoffed, "I'm actually planning on paying the old fart a visit tomorrow; he's bound to know something."

"Ah, that should be fun. How long has it been; three, four years since we worked together on that Rougarou case with him?" I asked.   
"Does he even know you're coming to Oklahoma?"

"Nnnnnnope!" He grinned, drawing a laugh from me. 

"Good luck with that. Come on, cici'll scold us for talking business at the table." 

"Ten bucks says she made the eye-of-Newt joke again," Anti said.

"I'm not taking that bet." 

"Knew it."


	22. 22

Atticus' POV:

I nearly moaned as the first bite of casserole hit my tongue; Even after our meal at Maglieau's, I was still famished. Enraptured by the taste and mouth watering aroma, I began inhaling my food with great enthusiasm. 

I nearly choked when Cici wacked the back of my head with a wooden spoon. Her technique was an artform, really; skillfully as a tennis master, she applied the perfect amount of spin and just enough force to create the perfect formula for the maximum amount of sting.

"Slow down and dig your manners out the trash, boy!" She scolded. I grimaced and rubbed my aching skull as I shot a withering glance at Antioch, who was snickering from across the table.

"Sorry, ma'am." 

She nodded, satisfied by my apology. "That's better."

The front door creaked open and slammed closed with a crash as Jensen stomped through the door. He muttered grouchily to himself as he walked in, snatched his plate off the table, and walked back out to head to his room. The rest of us stopped eating to watch the spectacle, both perplexed and slightly amused.

"Rough day, honey?" Cici asked, not at all affected by his mood. 

"You don't know the half of it. I work with a buncha God damn idiots," he growled as he closed his door harder than necessary. Ten seconds later, the muffled sounds of classic smooth jazz leaked through the walls.

Cici sighed. "Uh-oh... He's in a Duke Ellington mood. Musta been bad." She turned back to us.   
I'll go talk to him; you boys finish up your dinner. You better clear those plates!" She said, one hand on her hip while she brandished her spoon. Ah, the classic charm of a southern gal; it never got old. The three of us smiled and nodded as we watched her follow Jensen into his room. 

As soon as she was gone, Antioch turned to us and leaned forward. "Okay. Now might be a good time to talk." 

"What about Cici and Jensen?" Cardarius asked. Anti waved a hand through the air in impatient dismissal. 

"Catch 'em up later; I don't want any interruptions," he said before looking to me. "Let's start at the beginning. What's the word, nostra-dumbass?" 

I sighed. "Alright, Marilyn morose-" 

"Nice."

"Thank you. Now, fair warning," I said in a grim tone, "what I'm about to show you is extremely disturbing, but projection is the only way I can make you truly uunderstand." I gave the two of them a hard look.   
"Are you ready?"

"Are you kidding? I'm never ready for this shit," Cardarius groaned. "Last time we did this, I was sick for days." 

I smiled. "Too bad."

I held out a hand toward each of them to ease the projection process, watching carefully for any complications as their expressions went blank. Thirty seconds later, they came out of the vision, sweating and gasping for air.

Cardarius fell out of his chair.

"What. The. Fuck," Antioch said between breaths.

I nodded. "I know."

"That made no God damn sense!!"

"I know. I was hoping you two might be able to help me figure this out, but..." I sighed and shook my head, disappointed at the results.

"Sorry kid; I got nothing but a migraine," the Demon said apologetically. 

"Great. Well, if-"

"Wait!" Cardarius said from under the table. Antioch and I looked on in equal parts of amusement and pity as he shakily pulled himself up, leaning heavily on the back of his chair. "I might... ugh... I might have somethin'.... oh fuck I'm gonna hurl..." he groaned weakly. I scooted my chair away.

"Please don't."

"Wow. I've never seen a black guy look green before," Antioch smirked.

"Okay... okay I think I'm good," he said, managing to give Antioch a dirty look as he sat heavily in his chair. "...So that girl. She look familiar to you?" He asked finally. 

I shook my head slowly. "No, I really can't see-" 

"Dude. Savannah," he cut in, "It was Savannah. I'm positive."

Antioch cocked his head in confusion as I sat back in my chair in shock.  
When I thought back to the vision, I realized that he was right; Even through the mask of dirt, blood, and fear on her face, the girl I saw bore a definite resemblance to Savannah- to Sarah.

"How do you know her?" I asked.

"Savannah Hutchinson; She's in my chemistry class," he explained. I think she's like sixteen, but she's a couple years ahead, and I'm one behind. Anyway look, I know it sounds crazy..." 

"It doesn't," I interrupted. 

There was a pause before Antioch finally spoke. "Something you wanna tell us, kid?"

"Her name isn't Savannah Hutchinson; It's Sarah," I sighed, "Sarah Rhodes. I met her and her brother nine years ago in London."


	23. 23

Atticus' POV:

Antioch's eyebrows rose. "Uh... Come again?" He asked incredulously. 

"She and her brother Solomon- my best friend- lived at Heritage Place Orphanage, same as me," I explained, scrubbing a hand down my face tiredly.

"Yeah, I know who Sarah is, you told me the story" he dismissed me, "Multiple times. That would explain the gimp arm and false leg, too. But damn..."  
He leaned back and laced his hands behind his head. "That's a hell of a coincidence."

"There's no way it can be a coincidence," I corrected. 

"Wait. Then Why doesn't she remember you?" Cardarius asked. I quirked an eyebrow at Antioch.

"Well Anti; looks like you're going to have to hear the story again."

"Shhhhit," he groaned. 

"I'll give you the abbreviated version. I met the two of them when I was nearly seven years old..." 

.................................................................

"Do you really understand that stuff, Ollie?" 

I looked up from my book to see Sarah peering over my shoulder, squinting at the words on the pages as if they were written in Mandarin. Her bright rosy pink light was curling slowly off of her, framing her pretty face. I shrugged as she plopped herself down on the bench next to me, setting her tray of second tier cafeteria pizza beside mine. 

"Well... yeah. It took some practice though," I said modestly, not wanting to sound too proud. She smiled, swinging her good leg back and forth under the bench. 

"Wow. I didn't even know how to read 'til last year. That's so cool!" She bubbled. I marked my place and put the book down, ducking my head to hide my blush. 

"Eh. It's nothing really..." I mumbled. She was about to say something else when another little boy with a much brighter and more intense royal blue light sat down on the other side of the table. 

"Oh. Hello Solomon," I said with a smile at my best friend, relieved at his arrival. With a third wheel, it wouldn't be nearly as awkward. Well, at least I wouldn't be nearly as awkward. 

I'd arrived at the orphanage two years prior, so I was eight years old at the time. Solomon was seven, while his sister Sarah was six. Both had been at the orphanage since they were three and two, much longer than I had. The main reason that they hadn't been adopted was because of Sarah's handicaps; she was born with a mangled left leg that the doctors had to amputate imediately, as well as a left arm that was slightly shorter and skinnier than the other one. She wore a prosthetic leg that wasn't exactly state of the art, so she moved very awkwardly. Despite all of that, I thought she was a very beautiful little girl. Not a lot of people wanted to deal with the time, money, and commitment that it would require to take on Sarah, and the few people who were willing to give it a go didn't want to adopt two kids at once. People had tried to adopt Solomon by himself, but he had always adamantly refused, sometimes to the point of coming to physical blows with the people who wanted to take him away from his sister. I had always admired that about him.

"Hey Ollie," Solomon mumbled through a mouthful of the pizza he was already inhaling. Sarah did the same, only starting after her brother did. I shook my head and returned to my reading, knowing it would be quiet at our table for awhile.

"Mister Rhodes, the head counselor would like a word with you," came the voice of our attendant from the front of the cafeteria. Solomon's head perked up at the mention of his surname before it drooped again in a scowl. 

"Great. Wish me luck, gents; I'm off for the lion's den," he muttered in his sarcastically formal voice that he always used when he was angry. I hid my smile behind my book, and Sarah stifled her giggles with her hand, earning us a peeved glare from him before he sniffed, turned up his head, and left.

.................................................................

"It turned out that the orphanage wanted to send Solomon away to another facility in Dublin." 

Cardarius' face darkened. "Separating siblings? Wow, Fuckin' A plus child care," he remarked with biting sarcasm.

"I know," I agreed. "But luckily... I had other plans. 

.................................................................

My blood boiled and I saw red. I was murderous. How dare they? How DARE they?

"I'm... I'm leaving in two days, Ollie," my best and very first friend whispered in dismay. I squeezed his shoulder.

"No. You're not. We are leaving tonight; Just not to Dublin." 

They wouldn't be separating us. Not if I could help it. 

So that night, Solomon and I hefted the diminutive bags that held all we owned the world and stood at the door of our dormitory with looks of grim determination on both of our faces.

"You ready, Ollie?" Solomon whispered.

"As I'll ever be, Sollie," I replied with a wry smile. With that, I opened the door slightly, reaching my hand out and snapping softly. I heard the faint whir and click of the old security camera in the hallway that told me it was shorting out, along with all the others in the facility by exstension.

Technopathy had its advantages. 

Solomon and I put our shoes in our bags and crept down the hallway in our socks to the cafeteria. He picked the lock to the storage room so that we could load up the rest of our bags with fruit, canned, and dry food, as well as a couple cooking knives. 

When our bags were full, we set them by the front entryway door in the corner. I guarded them while Solomon went to get his sister. When they came back, She was toting her old pink backpack and hugging her toy cloth doll that she had dubbed Prairie Dawn to her chest. 

"Are we leaving now, Ollie? For good?" She asked as she hugged her doll tighter. I nodded as we all slipped on our shoes.

"Yeah. To Tomatin in Scotland. I had family there once," I said, remembering my father mentioning that town a couple times when he was cursing his family. Who knew, Maybe my uncle Atticus was there. Saul had never explicitly confirmed his death; he'd just said his brother was MIA.

After one last demonstration of Solomon's miraculous lock picking prowess, we were off. We were at least six or seven kilometers away before we heard police sirens, but none of us looked back. 

.

.

.

We had been on the road nearly five days now, and had just a few cans of food left. One of those cans was spinach, and I knew Sarah wouldn't eat that if it were the last vegetable on earth.

After three days of walking and sleeping in parks and homeless shelters, we decided that enough was enough. We would have to drive. So naturally.... 

.................................................................

"You stole a car?" 

"Yes." 

"A mother fuckin' car?!" 

"Yes," I repeated patiently. "But wait til you hear what we did next..." 

.................................................................

I glanced at our meager food supply and then at the nearly empty gas meter.

"Solomon... this isn't sustainable. We aren't going to be able to buy enough food and gas to last us to Tomatin," I said grimmly. Solomon shot me a worried glance as I continued, "And when we do get there? Where would we go?" 

"...Well we'll think of something. For now..." Solomon said, opening his door to follow Sarah out into the McDonald's, "Chicken nuggets!" 

I rolled my eyes. Such intelligent people.

.

.

.

We had just robbed a bloody filling station. I couldn't get the concept through my head. Our total take was three hundred and eighty seven dollars and as much food as we could stuff in the car. 

My God, I was a criminal. 

......................................................

"Oh. My. God. You're even more badass than I thought, dude!" Cardarius exclaimed with a congratulatory slap on my back.

"Why thank you. Now.... Here's where it gets interesting," I told him with a grin. 

"It's been pretty interesting already, man. But I'm all ears."

.................................................................

We sprinted through the streets in the pouring rain, soaked through and chilled to the bone. Solomon and I had just finished our latest raid when, out of sheer chance, a policeman walked through the door just as we were making our escape. He saw the stash bags and came to the obvious conclusion. We dropped everything and pushed past his (luckily) overweight form quickly; He was a large man, so I knew he didn't stand a chance of keeping up. We heard him cursing and calling for backup as his car failed him. 

Our own vehicle was a couple blocks away. Solomon and I had agreed that because of Sarah's disabilities, bringing her along on heists would be too high a risk to take. 

And so we ran for our lives through one of the worst storms I had ever seen, even by Europe's standars. Going back to the van and possibly exposing Sarah was not an option. We had to find somewhere to hide; but where? This section of the city was residential and open, the suburbian outskirts of the city where everyone had dogs and tended to keep their blinds drawn back. Every dog we passed barked madly at us, making me wince. My heart sunk at the lack of alleyways to slink into. 

We were screwed. 

There were sudden blinding flashes of red and blue as a police car suddenly appeared out of nowhere, screeching to a halt in front of us. We turned on our heels only to find yet another approaching down the road. My heart clenched as I immediately thought of Sarah; what would she do without us? It wouldn't take more than a couple days for her to get caught. 

"Okay lads, let's be smart about this," one of the men said as they approached, "You little buggers caused us a whole heap of troubles over the past year. Got my best mate fired. So this'll go one of two ways; either you come with us willingly... or we can do this the fun way," he grinned as he pulled out his tazer. Of bloody course we would get the bad cop. Of course. Solomon and I held our ground, bracing ourselves as the men approached. 

.................................................................

"How the hell did you get out of that?" He asked, by this time well and truly invested in the story. 

"I wished," I answered simply, drawing a sceptical look from him. 

"You... wished." 

"Yes," I confirmed. "And I think we both know what happens when one wishes hard enough..."

.................................................................

We were trapped. Two Police cars blocked the road on either side of us. They had just called for backup, so who knew how many were on their way. There were no alleyways to duck into, no way to disappear.

I sqeezed my eyes shut tight against my harsh reality like the child I was never allowed to be. I closed my eyes and wished and willed and prayed, harder than I ever had in my life.

"Damn, I thought this shit only happened in movies," came an irreverent voice from a little ways behind us.

I opened my eyes. 

There, standing at indolent ease on top of one of the police cars, was a young man. His clothes were rumpled and torn, his dirty blond hair disheveled and mussed. Dark rings that looked more like bruises circled his exhausted eyes that sunk into his thin, bony face. He was grossly emaciated as if he hadn't eaten in weeks, a fact that was made painfully obvious by the way his wet clothes clung to his skinny frame. And yet, through it all, a cheeky smirk adorned his pale face as he cooly observed the scene from his perch.

His aura was a stunning bright purple that rolled lazily through the air like water. There were occasional deviations in the slow rhythm; twitches, flicks, and sometimes spasms of the sleepy ribbons would occur at sudden and random intervals, suggesting that there were more thorns on this rose than met the eye.

"Oy! Whad'ya think yer doin,' mate?" Barked the officer nearest the stranger, "are ye off yer trolley?"

"Sod off piss pot, this don't concern you!" Yelled the other, drawing his tazer and passing us to approach him. The newcomer raised his hands in a placating gesture. 

"Woah, woah," he chuckled, "can't a starving humanoid rassel himself a meal in peace?" 

The officers looked at each other as Solomon and I did the same.

"Not sure what yer on about," called the first officer, "but if you don't geddoff my bleedin' boot-" 

"Fine," the man cut in flatly. To the amazement of all present, he dissolved into a cloud of bright purple smoke. Solomon and I stiffened as it approached us, stumbling backwards as the man suddenly reappeared in front of us, his smirk widening at our reactions. 

"Alright, listen up; We've got about twenty seconds before tweedle dumb and tweedle dumber manage to close their mouths. So which one of you made that wish?" He asked. Somehow, I knew exactly what he was talking about. 

"I did," I said, stepping forward without hesitation, "can you help us?"

The man's arrogant eyes seemed to soften the slightest bit.

"Yeah... but it'll come at a price. Wishes don't come cheap, kid," he said a little sadly.

"What do you need?" Still no hesitation. He met my gaze solemnly and steadily, brow furrowed as if deep in thought. After a moment, a strange look came over his face. 

"... The possibilities in your future make your years too powerful. You have very little good memories and no possessions but the clothes on your back. And even if your friend were to make the wish..." 

He shook his head.

"It's the same with him. You have literally nothing to give me to save your friends... Except for one thing."

"What is it?" I demanded urgently, "anything for their freedom!" 

"To save your friends... you have to give them up. I'm sorry, kid. Truly."

"O-Ollie..." Solomon said shakily, pointing behind the man. The cops were approaching again, cautiously this time. One of them was calling for backup.

My blood turned to ice. Now we really couldn't run. Not without her. I turned to the man as Solomon began to whimper and cry. I knew we wouldn't be able to free Sarah on our own. This was the only way.

"...They won't remember me?" I asked slowly, not questioning the fact that I somehow knew exactly what recieving his help would entail and chalking it up to my powers. 

"No. They won't. They'll wake up tomorrow morning in that van, with every memory in tact minus you. They'll be found by nice people. Adopted. Happy. But you... do you want to do this?"

.................................................................

"So I accepted," I finished, looking down. I tried to ignore the pit in my stomach that always appeared whenever I recalled the awful memory. 

 

"Holy shit... I can't believe you had to go through that. Why didn't you tell me any of this before, man?" Cardarius asked. He almost sounded disappointed. 

"I... I don't like to talk about it. I know you're my best friend, Cardarius, and I'm grateful," I assured him fervently, "but some things are need-to-know."

He sighed and nodded. "Yeah... It's cool, I feel you." 

"Cool. Now can we get this show on the road?" Antioch demanded. 

I took a deep breath. "So we have three questions on our hands," I announced as I held up my fingers.   
"One: why is Sarah here? Two: what happened to her brother? And three: what exactly was her roll in the vision? It was all to vague for any of us to decipher..." I trailed off.

"One thing's for sure," Antioch said grimly, "judging from the nature of those images... we need to work fast. She could be in real danger. 

"I know," I readily agreed. "Cardarius and I will check into it as soon as possible. Now, to the second order of business: the cursed fire." 

"Cursed fire?" Cardarious asked.

"Don't worry about it. And I actually, I have a theory on that..." 

I motioned for him to continue. "I'm all ears." 

"Okay, First of all," he began after a deep breath, "that monster. Don't freak out, but.... I think... It might have been a golem. 

My blood ran cold. "No..." 

"What? What's a Golem?" Cardarius demanded. 

"A golem," I explained as I ran a hand through my hair, "is a proxy beast controlled by an outside source, specifically someone well versed in necromancy. It's fueled by spirit energy stolen from one or multiple humans. by killing it without the proper tools..." I covered my face with my hands.  
"We may have just damned a mortal soul."


	24. 24

Atticus' POV: 

I slammed my fist on the table. "Fuck!!" 

"Calm down, kid. I know it's bad, but we won't make the same mistake again," Antioch promised me. 

I took a deep, calming breath; it wouldn't do us any good to kick ourselves over tradgedies we couldn't rectify. Of course, that didn't mean that I wouldn't. "Alright. Alright, on to the fire. I think I know who was targeting us," I said, piquing the other's interest.

I proceeded to explain my run-in with the unknown attacker, along with his powers and how I believed he may have been the one threatening me in the vision. 

"It's not that far fetched a notion," I reasoned, "To suggest that he started the fire. Especially considering the fact that I could clearly recognize his voice from the vision. Now the only question is why."   
I pushed out of my chair and turned to the kitchen window, pondering his motives.   
"His accent... it was clearly English, like Sarah's and mine. Could he know me from my time in London...?" I murmured to myself. 

Neither of them responded for a good thirty seconds. I looked over my shoulder when I heard a chair scraping against the floor; Antioch had stood up and was stretching his arms above his head with a yawn.

"We'll have enough time to-" he yawned again, "-think about that in the morning." 

I crossed my arms and leaned against the kitchen cabinet, cocking my head at him. "Didn't you say that you saw some strange things of you're own?" I inquired curiously. 

He shrugged, remaining suspiciously nonchalant. "Did I? Huh." 

With that, he dissolved and smoked out of the kitchen and down the hall, probably heading for the guest room. Cardarius sighed and pushed his chair back as well. 

"Guess you're bunkin' with me then," he sighed. I nodded and followed him down the hall. 

"I suppose I'm taking the floor?" 

"Yep." 

"Lovely."

Anti's POV:

I don't really know why I didn't tell the kid about his uncle. It was honestly a split second decision. Maybe it was because I didn't want to stress him out even more; he was already on edge, and I knew how reckless Atticus could be when it came to his past. If he was pushed to far... there was no telling what he might do. He had a violent streak that scared even me, and it only got worse when he put on that mask and relied on Renegade to solve the problem. Then he'd pull Cardarius into it and me by exstension... I couldn't have both of them going AWOL. There was too many lives at stake here, too much riding on all of us from both the Hunters and Anonymous. 

Laying there on that old spring mattress, looking up at the ceiling, I only knew one thing: I couldn't tell Atticus. Not until it was safe. 

Not until I knew what was going on myself.


	25. 25

Atticus' POV:

As it turned out, my night was anything but lovely. Ferocious nightmares infiltrated my dreams, making my sleep restless and fitful. The events of the past day replayed themselves in my mind over and again, flashing before my eyes in a chaotic mess of fear and fire. He was there too, holding me against the wall as I helplessly struggled against the flames that licked at my back, fighting for air as that acrid smoke stole my breath and burned my lungs... 

"Atticus..."

"Atticus!"

I shot up ramrod-straight, eyes wide and breath short, as I was shaken out of my fearful slumber. I was trembling slightly, covered in a light sheen of sweat that pasted my unruly hair to the sides of my face. I looked down to see that I had kicked my covers off and made a mess of the pallet I'd laid out for myself the night before. 

"Calm down, dude; it was just a dream," Cardarius assured me, laying a on my shoulder. He gave me a concerned look.   
"Are you okay?"

I nodded and allowed him to pull me off the floor. "Yes, I'm alright. It's just that vision... I can't get it out of my head." 

"We'll figure it out. I'm with you, buddy," he promised. 

"Well," I sighed, heading for the door, "I suppose we'd better get ready." 

Cardarius' eyebrows rose. "Are you serious?" 

"What? We have a test in Calculus." 

"I don't even know how you can think about school," he chuckled incredulously as he followed me to the bathroom. He leaned on the doorframe as I rummaged through the cabinet for a spare toothbrush.   
"You're not even supposed to be going anyway," he said.

"Aha! Found one. And why not?" I asked. 

"Uh... Apartment? Fire? Remember? You were there," he pointed out. "Plus, it was all over the news; the teachers were all called about any students who lived in that building."

"I suppose that makes sense," I agreed. "But we still have to go to look into the Miss Jackson issue today, and Sarah as well." 

"True." 

"Now get out, I was here first." 

____________________________________

After the two of us showered and cleaned up, we headed to the living room where Jensen was sitting in the armchair, drinking his morning cup of coffee over that day's newspaper issue. A delicious smell wafted in from the kitchen, immediately setting my mouth to watering. Neither I nor Antioch had any culinary talents to speak of, so this was a very, very welcome change of pace. 

Jensen looked up from his paper. "Morning, boys. You sleep well?" He asked. 

"I don't think I could have stayed awake if I wanted to," I answered. It was a half-truth; I would have gladly avoided sleep for days if it meant that I could escape the haunting visions I'd experienced the night before. 

"Speak for yourself," Cardarius scoffed. He jerked his thumb towards me. "This dumbass kept me awake all night." 

"Speaking of... swanky digs, Atticus," Jensen commented with a grin. My cheeks heated as I looked down at the plaid onesie that Cardarius gave me to sleep in. I'd forgotten that I was wearing them.

"Uh..." 

"Here."   
Cici came to my rescue, walking in from the kitchen carrying the black button down and slacks that I had worn the day before.   
"Change outta those jammies," she told me as she handed them to me, "I washed these for you last night, so take 'em or leave 'em."

"Ah, thank you," I said fervently. "As much as I adore the idea of wearing a onesie to school..." I trailed off, taking the proffered clothes with a grin.

"I'll be doin' some shoppin' today so you don't hafta wear the same getup all week long. Five outfits; after that, you're on ya own, boy," Cici warned sternly. I leaned forward to place a peck on her cheek. 

"You, madam, are an angel above Angels." 

Cici smiled primly and playfully slapped my arm. "Mm-hm. Damn right. You go get dressed now."

"Is that kid trying to make me look bad?" Jensen muttered as I started out of the room. Anti entered in light form and solidified in front of me, stopping me in my tracks. 

"Bloody hell...!" 

"I'm gonna go ahead and visit Micky and a couple other exonerates today; be back by this afternoon," he informed me, ignoring my reaction to his sudden appearance. I frowned.

"Wait. Isn't he in Oklahoma? And do you even know where the others are?" I asked. Anti paused to consider my words. 

"Okay, yeah, so I might be back in a couple days," he ammended. "The Nagas are kinda pissed at me right now-"

"Why?"

"Don't ask. Anyway, I can just ask Micky for the locations."   
With that, he dissolved and misted out through the miniscule gap at the bottom of the front door. There was a brief pause before he smoked right back in with a smirk in my direction.   
"By the way; bird brain is outside. He looks pretty pissed," he informed me, and disappeared again.

"Wha- why didn't you let him-" I began to scold, but he was gone. "Dammit," I muttered, preparing myself for the worst as I slowly opened the door. Aristotle shot through the entrance with a fierce caw as soon as there was enough room. I winced in pain when he lighted on my shoulder and began to peck angrily at my ears and hair.

"Ah! Okay, okay, I'm sorry! Dammit, I'm sorry!" I shouted. I tried to ignore the Calloway's laughter as I ducked my head and ran down the hall, desperate to escape the ferocious raven.


	26. 26

Atticus' POV:

"So. What's the game plan for miss J?"

"Hm?" I was drawn out of my thoughts by Cardarius' hand on my shoulder. I looked up to realize that we were on King Boulevard, nearly halfway to school. 

"Miss Jackson. C'mon man, keep up!" My friend said exhasperatedly. I took a moment to consider his question. 

"I was thinking," I said, "That we could search her office. And bug her of course," I added.

"...Bug her?"

I sighed. "A mosquito, Cardarius. A mosquito. Keep up, man," I teased. 

"Ohhhhh, right," he said with a nod of understanding. "Okay, So how're we gonna do that?" 

"You are going to sneak into her office; I'll stand watch," I told him curtly. He stopped in his tracks as I kept walking so that he had to jog to catch up after he recovered. 

"Come on man, I always have to do that shit!" He protested. "Can't you have a turn?" 

"I'm sorry, do you have a magical eye that can sense auras and heat signatures?" I asked. I waited for a few moments, "Didn't think so."

"Ughhhh, fine," he groaned. There was a moody pause before he spoke again.   
"And what about that one girl, Savannah?" He asked, apparently having recovered from his indignation.

"Sarah," I corrected, "Her name is Sarah."

"Right. So what are we gonna do about her? I mean, we can't just stalk her," Cardarius chuckled. 

I stayed silent. 

"...Right?"

"..." 

"Atticus! Jesus, you can't be serious!" He exclaimed. I shot him a look. 

"Keep your voice down, we're almost to Whitney. And do you have a better plan?" I asked, "Because I don't. And don't say the word stalking again; it makes us sound creepy." 

"Probably because it is," he pointed out in a mutter. 

I suddenly grabbed Cardarius' shoulder and yanked him into the nearest alleyway, ignoring his surprised protests. I pushed him against wall before risking a cautious peek back around the corner. 

"Ow! What the fuck, man!?" He hissed before I quickly shushed him. 

"Sorry. But she's literally right there," I hissed, jerking my thumb over my shoulder in the direction we were previously headed. Cardarius frowned. 

"One," he said, "she doesn't know we're stalking her-" 

"We're not."

"Two, it's not a big deal if we see her on the way to school. We go to the same school, it's not that weird," he reasoned. I peeked back around the corner again only to jerk my head back quickly. 

"She's looking this way," I whispered, causing Cardarius to furrow his brow. 

"Huh. She might be stalking us," he mused. 

I looked back; she was gone. I sighed in relief and stepped out of the alley with an exasperated Cardarius in tow.

"For her sake, I hope not," I said finally. 

____________________________________

I really hated lunch. 

The incessant sounds of teenage gossip and raucous laughter, the judging stares I got for my 'disability,' the nauseating cafeteria slop that just barely passed health regulations... it really was awful. The only upside was that Cardarius and I always had a table to ourselves. It was fine by me that no one else was willing to sit with two antisocial outcasts.

"Sup, guys?" 

Well. Except for Greyson, that is. 

____________________________________

 

Grayson Price

Code name: Machete

Affiliation: Anonymous X, Whitney High School   
Occupation: Crow, Best Buy  
Post: Los Angeles  
Gender: male  
Age: 18

Weapons and Gear:   
-Concealable Bo staff  
-Portable holograph  
Special skills:  
-Karate  
-Krav Magka

Origins:  
A Best Buy associate with a penchant for hacking. He completed the Cicada 3301 challenge at age 14 and trained himself in Karate and Crav Magka for two and a half years in order to rise from an Anon to a Crow. He only met Atticus (Renegade) and Cardarius (Shockwave) when he moved to L.A. his junior year.   
____________________________________

"Sup, guys?" Grayson asked as he sat down. He tossed his lunch tray on the table with a loud clatter, drawing stares from kids sitting nearby. 

"I heard through the grapevine about the fire; sorry about you're apartment, bro," he said sympathetically. I nodded.

"Thank you, my friend. But there's no rest for the weary, I'm afraid..." 

"Yeah, we got a whole other issue on our plate," Cardarius told him. Grayson just leaned forward with a conspiratorial grin. 

"I know; X texted me last night about the wicked Witch; Crazy shit, man."   
He paused before continuing, "Just got a new cell, too. I haven't even given him my number yet, so I don't know how he got it. Kinda creepy," he mused. 

"Okay, one: that wicked Witch thing was racist," Cardarius said. "Two, you know how X is; he pretty much knows everything about everyone." 

"Still creepy though." 

"Do you have any input about the case?" I asked, "You tend to have a penchant for gossip." 

"It's a talent," Grayson said proudly. "But no, not that I can think of. I mean, I did see a Hex Bag on her desk one time..." 

"That could be something," Cardarius said hopefully. I shook my head. 

"Or she could just be a Wiccan; that's a fashionable trend these days," I suggested. 

"Maybe. But when's X ever steered us wrong?" He pointed out.

"There's a first time for everything. Come on," I said, motioning for Cardarius to follow me as I stood, "We'd better get this show on the road. Grayson, can you watch the teachers in here and notify us if any start coming our way?" 

"Yeah, go ahead. Be careful; if she really is a Knight or Elite, she'll probably be able to hide her aura," he warned. 

"I know. See you after school, Grayson," I said over my shoulder as we headed out of the cafeteria.

Anti's POV: 

Oh. my God. 

I hated flying solo. 

Ever since I'd had that falling out with Minthe, and Queen Stheno by exstension, I hadn't been able to use any of the shadow portals in any of the airports that the Naga controlled. I stopped at at least twenty Hunter's houses and even bounty bars to see if anyone had a portal key, but there weren't any bites. The three people that did have one didn't want to share, two because they were running low, one because he was a dick. I'd call him a racist, but considering that a Demon killed his wife... well, I really couldn't blame him. 

Here's the real reason I was so pissed: when it came to traveling efficiency, the pecking order from the top was shadow portals, jets, planes... and then moi. Even when I was shadow cloaking (not technically shadows, but still), a shit machine made by a bunch of hairless apes was two to three times faster than I was. If that's not a reason to get ticked, I don't know what is. 

After a supremely annoying three hour trip (four if you count my various drop-ins) I finally crossed the border into Oklahoma, the land of the... fuck if I knew. What the hell did they even have going for them? Potatoes was Idaho's thing, corn was Nebraska... whatever. I didn't care. All I knew was that the Okies had a city named after their state, which is stupidly fucking redundant. It's like some stuck-up twat naming his kid after himself just to ease the pressure from his massive fucking ego.

This rant tooootally isn't a circuitous allegory for Demons taking their host's names and faces. 

Nope. I wasn't bitter. Not bitter at all. 

Coincidentally, Oklahoma city was exactly where I was headed. I'd only found that out after I started heading east; Micky was a hard dude to track, but I had connections. Good ones.   
When I finally reached the coordinates that Father Mike had given me when I ironically stopped by his church in Nevada, I found myself in the middle of a stereotypical suburban cul-de-sac on the outer edge of town, surrounded by white picket fenced American dreams. I literally felt like I'd just reformed on the set of desperate housewives. Gross. 

I was just considering going door to door pretending to be a seventh day Adventist advocate when the front entrance to one of the identical houses opened to my right. I cocked my head when I saw that no one was there. 

'Since you've already gone to the trouble of coming all this way, I suggest you come inside quickly before one of my neighbors sees you,' said a begrudging voice that I knew all too well. 

I grinned widely at the sound of Mikhail's familiar grumble in my head before strolling in that direction, taking my sweet time as I headed up the drive just to piss him off. The door slammed shut behind me the moment I crossed the threshold, literally hitting me in the ass on my way in. I traded my smile for a scowl. 

"Very funny, Micky," I snapped at the figure approaching me from the front hall. The old Knight smirked. 

"Hello, Antioch."


	27. 27

Atticus' POV:

I couldn't wait for graduation. 

I didn't hate Whitney High. Far from it; For all its lack of structural and educational integrity, I was actually quite fond of the old place. Sure, the roach- infested institution was a bit moldy and had all the bandwidth of a faraday cage, but none of that was the reason for my aversion. The reason I couldn't wait to rid myself of Whitney was that Whitney couldn't wait to rid itself of me.

Unlike Grayson, who was a chronic snoop, Cardarius and I were outcasts in every sense of the word. I wouldn't have minded this at all if it weren't for the fact that our status meant that we were surveilled just as much as we were shunned. The eyes of the teachers and students were always on our backs, day in and day out, trying to figure us out. We were like circus freaks to them. No, they wouldn't sit with us at lunch, nor would they think to talk to us; what they would do is whisper back and forth amongst themselves while they thought we weren't watching, cooking up nonsensical theories and rumors to try and explain the strange behavior of the straight A cripple with a violent streak and his dread-head sidekick who flunked a year. Not only were the student's speculations inane and irritating... they were dangerous.

Anyone who dug too deeply into our lives was putting themselves in grave danger. If it ever went too far, their foolish mistakes would rest on our shoulders. 

Not long after we left the lunchroom, we came across another group of students who had apparently also decided to skip lunch. Chase and his group of fellow sasquatches were hanging out in the hallway next to the first floor's stairwell, chortling loudly at some childish joke that one of them had just cracked. I noted with satisfaction that aside from the more obvious Injuries on his face, Chase was wearing a leg brace to assuage the sprain I'd given him when he attempted to kick me the day before. It looked like cross country competitions were off the table for this season. 

Cardarius hissed through his teeth when he spotted the black-eyed allstar. "Daaaaamn! I heard you did a number on him, but I didn't think it was that bad. The fuck did he do?" 

"He was annoying Sar- Savannah," I corrected myself. "When he laid a hand on her... I had to step in."

Cardarius shook his head. "Jesus, she's like five foot four. Mother fucker deserved it," he muttered, eyeing the fucker in question like he was thinking of taking a swing himself. 

"He won't be bothering her anymore," I said simply. 

All the blood in Chase's face drained when he spotted us approaching. I held his eyes steadily as he and his boneheaded cronies silently watched us pass. Cardarius whistled lowly when we were out of earshot. 

"Shit, I've never seen Chase get that quiet. It's kinda nice," My friend commented. 

"Agreed." 

We arrived at the study hall a few moments later. The study hall was a large, wide open space near the entrance of the school that somewhat resembled an office building, with cubicles and circular tables scattered across the area. Since it was lunchtime, the hall was relatively empty.  
The teachers were meant to sit at their assigned cubicles before and after school so that the students could take tests and make up work that they might have missed, asking their teachers questions about the material as needed. Not that many students bothered to come there in their free time anyway.   
The doors to the principal's and vice principal's offices were located on the adjacent wall just inside the school's front hallway. 

I sat down at a table on the edge of the study hall that would give me a clear view of the office doors without making it too obvious that I was watching them. After a quick glance in that direction followed by a muttered spell, I looked to Cardarius.

"Go ahead; I already froze the security cameras and scanned for hidden ones in her office," I murmured. He was already on his way. 

'Aight. See you on the flipside,' he sent me. 

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. 'You do know that nobody actually says that, right? It's not a thing.'

'It's my thing.'

'Sometimes I wonder why I'm friends with you. In any case, her door should be unlocked.'

He glanced back at me briefly when he reached said door. 'How do you know?' 

'Because I unlocked it," I smirked. 

'Oh. Right.' 

Cardarius' POV:

After checking one last time to see if anyone was looking, I opened the door and darted into Miss J's office.   
'The fox is in the hole, Over,' I thought to Atticus as I started looking around the room. 

'Nobody says that either.' 

I sighed. 'Bro. You gotta work on your sense of humor.'

I could feel Atticus' laugh through the link. 'That would be your area of expertise. Now hurry; we only have thirty minutes until lunch ends,' he warned.

I nodded and started to window shop around the VP's office. There wasn't much that said anything about her life outside school. No pictures, no trinkets or personal belongings... just basic stuff. There was a picture on the wall of her holding some award and posing with the principal, but nothing else.

"No family or friends that I can see," I whispered, knowing that Atticus could hear me. "Actually, there's really nothing here about her at all."

'I can't say I'm shocked. Twenty nine minutes and counting, Cardarius.'

"Okay, okay..."

I got to work. I pulled my handy dandy lock-picking kit from my pocket and made the rounds, taking care of every lock on her desk drawers and the cabinets on the wall before bothering to open any of them. With that out of the way, I started in on Miss Jackson's desk. 

My eyebrows rose in surprise at what I saw in the top drawer. There were some small sacks that looked like hex bags, along with a couple bundles of incense and even a smudge stick. I picked up one of the hex bags and untied it.

 

I wrinkled my nose at the hex components inside. If Miss J really did practice Witchcraft, she was absolute shit at it. What was I even looking at? The thing was useless! There were way too many conflicting ingredients for the hex bag to pack any real punch. Some of them weren't even legit spell material; the dinky silver charm had absolutely nothing to do with sacred geometry, and I was pretty sure the bone and feather were fake. I shook my head in disgust as I tied the thing up, putting it back where I found it. 

'I can feel that you're irritated; what did you see?' Atticus asked.

"I'm seeing a bunch of useless Wiccan nature bullshit in her desk, but nothing we could nail her with. It all looks fake," I said as I picked up the smudge stick. I only had to glance at it for a second before coming to the exact same conclusion. "This fucking smudge stick doesn't even have sage in it!" I scoffed as I tossed it back and shut the drawer. 

'She could be trying to throw someone off her trail by pretending not to know what she's doing,' he mused thoughtfully. 

I gave him a mental shrug as I opened the second and third drawers. Nothing; the second one was just filled with office supplies, and the bottom drawer was completely empty. I told Atticus what I was seeing. 

'Hm. Check the cabinets.'

"Nah... more of the same," I sighed when I finished doing that. "It's just more office supplies and shit. The only weird thing so far was the trash in her desk, and again; that was trash."

I felt a wave of confusion from Atticus. 'What was X thinking...?' He wondered. 

I shrugged again and went back to the desk, running my fingers along the bottom and sides to look for hidden compartments. "I dunno, but I don't think... wait."  
Part of the underside of the desk gave way under the pressure from my fingers, making something fall into my hand. I pulled back and looked down at what I was holding. 

"Hey, I found a wand! It looks like..." I trailed off as my blood ran cold. "Oh fuck, dude."

'What? What do you see?'

"This thing is pretty hardcore, man. I think it's lined with Mer scales. Barbed ones." 

'From a Siren,' Atticus guessed. 'Pretty hard to get. Is the core silver?'

I carefully peeled a couple scales back. "Yeah, pure silver. It's been blessed too, I can feel it. X was right, man; This is definitely legit."

'Pocket it. I want to analyze her energy signature later,' Atticus told me. 'Is there anything else of interest?'

"Nope, I think I got it," I said as I slipped the wand into my back pocket. I started to leave after getting the all clear... but stopped. "Actually..." I walked over to peek into the Principal's office that was connected to Miss Jackson's. "I spy a file cabinet in the principal's office... labeled records. Should I do it?" I grinned. 

'Cardarius. No.' 

"Imma do it."   
I bent down and picked the lock to the top drawer labeled seniors and started shuffling through the 'Y' section. 

'Bloody blue hell...' Atticus groaned. 

"Don't worry, I'll get yours too," I promised. 

'Ugh, fine. Just make certain to fix all the locks you picked,' he snapped.

"Alright, I got 'em! Hell yeah!" I crowed, holding said files above my head in triumph. 

'Alright. Now stick her desk and... oh no.'

"What? What's wrong?" I asked quickly. I shot off the ground, ready to bolt if he gave the word. "Is it Miss J?" 

'No, but it's almost just as bad; you need to hide, now,' He warned me urgently.   
'It's Principal Campbell.'


	28. 28

Anti's POV:

"Come on," I scoffed as I rummaged through their fridge. "Really? Bourbon? Moscato? God, who do I have to blow to get a damn shiner around here?"

"I see you haven't changed a bit since last we met," Mikhail observed dryly as I finally turned to him, kicking the fridge shut behind me.

"Mope!" I agreed unapologetically through my mouthful of cold pizza. I started walking around the kitchen and dining room as I ate, ignoring Mikhail's annoyed gaze boring into my back.   
"Man, this place is bougie. What's the number on this crib?" 

"Nothing. Akida here owns the real estate agency in this area," Mikhail told me matter-of-factly, motioning to the bemused young Pixie girl sitting beside him at the dining table. "Now would  you like a tour, or will you sit down so we can talk?"

"I kinda want the tour." 

"You're not getting one. Sit," Mikhail snapped. 

I rolled my eyes, but did what he said, taking a seat across the table. "Fine, geez. Looks like you haven't changed either, Micky; still no sense of humor."  
His only response was to lift a single irritated eyebrow. I suppressed a grin, satisfied with the knowledge that he was inwardly fuming.   
"Anyways, you first; why are you holed up here in suburbia?" I asked curiously.

Mikhail shrugged. "I'm simply playing a part. We're investigating a sharp rise in Beldam attacks in this area, and Akida is posing as a student at the local school to watch for signs of targeted children," he explained.

"And you're what, her grandpa?" I chuckled, drawing a scowl from him. 

"What do you think?" He growled as I continued to laugh. 

Then I realized something. 

"Theeeere it is. I think he caught on Micky," Akida giggled, pointing at my face. She balked when Mikhail shot her a warning look. He really didn't like that nickname. 

"But Beldams don't steal teens," I pointed out, more than a little confused. "That's pretty common knowledge, Mikhail; I've never even heard of them going after someone over the age of seven." 

"I know." 

"So why would you need to comb a high school for Beldams?" I demanded. 

Mikhail rested his hands on the table, lacing his fingers together as he fixed me with a serious look. "That's what we are trying to find out. There are reports of deviant beasts like this all across the continent. There are Wraiths in Texas and Mexico feeding on Humans of all ages and genders instead of just healthy young men. There are predators in Canada who are now preying upon humans, not just animals. The Wendigos from the mountains up north have begun to drift out of their natural hunting grounds and are converging upon towns and cities. Even Rougarous and Banshees, as rare as they are, have started to do the same."

My eyes widened more with each new piece of information. "What the fuck...?" I whispered in disbelief. 

This was unprecedented. Beasts were considered to be no more than wild animals in the Paranormal world, just as predictable as any other form of wildlife. Each species had a predictable pattern that they always stuck to, a specific habitat and source of sustenance that they depended on to survive. It was an ancient system that had sustained itself for millenia. What the hell could have happened to push these creatures over the edge so suddenly?

Mikhail nodded. "The change was recent, only in the past month or so, but It hit hard and fast. Casualty rates are rising quickly for the Exonerated and Hunters alike. I'm surprised that you of all people weren't aware of this, Anti."  

Now that I thought about it, I had heard. Maybe I hadn't been  explicitly warned about the threat, but what I did know was that The Hunters had been losing a lot of good people lately. The same went for Anon X. It was clear with the sudden rise in casualties on both fronts that something was up; I just hadn't what it was or how serious it was until now.

"This might be a Dumb question, but have there been any similar reports overseas?" I asked. 

"Not as of yet," Mikhail said, surprising me. "But we're keeping our eyes open. We will let you know if anything comes to light."

"Why the hell would it just be this continent?"

"We don't know," Akida chimed in. "Even our spies in the Resistance and the House are saying that those organizations are at a loss as well. The Magistrate has some people on it, but they've got nothing so far."

So even the bigwigs were stumped... this was getting more worrying by the minute.

"Tell me; have you heard any word of Sean and Fell?" Mikhail inquired out of the blue.

I almost laughed. "Pff, no. Those two fucks haven't still reared their ugly heads since they turned tail seven years ago,"  I informed him. "Wiishu would tell you the same, and she's been hunting her ex down nonstop all this time."

"I see... I had hoped that perhaps the Hunters or the Lexicon might have known something. But they aren't easy to contact, especially for me," the old Knight sighed.

This time, I actually did laugh. "I'm not surprised, given your history. They're not fond of the Resistance. Or the Exonerated for that matter."

"Indeed."

"...But if anything pops up, you'll be the first to know. Signe too," I assured him. 

"Thank you. I'll pass the word to her."

We were quiet for a couple minutes after that, each of us lost in our own thoughts. It wasn't awkward; if anything, it was an easy, comfortable silence, the kind that only people our age could understand. I mean, I was still nearly two millenia older than him, but still. After all the hell we'd been through in the past two days, it was nice to have someone else who was okay with just shutting up for a minute. I obviously didn't always think that way; It was only when I fully walked into the light that I finally had the ability to appreciate peace over chaos.   
Of course I couldn't talk like that aloud; Glitch had a reputation to uphold. 

The pause only lasted about two minutes, but I was grateful for it. I sighed and pushed out of my chair. "That about covers it. I'd better get going," I said, giving Mikhail and the Pixie a short salute as I began  to dissolve. "Watch your back, Micky." 

"You as well," I heard behind me as I shot out through the keyhole in the door.


	29. 29

Cardarius' POV:

"Shit!"

I slammed the file cabinet shut and locked it back as quickly as I could, hissing out a curse as I rammed my knee into the edge in my rush to get out. I dashed out of the principal's office and dove under Miss J's desk right as the door opened. I held my breath as Principal Campbell stomped in,   
Grumbling about some 'snot-nosed brats.' It was pretty weird to hear him talk like that; he was normally in such a good mood. It actually made some sense; Maybe it was all a front. 

I heard his rolling chair squeak softly as he sat down, followed by seven short beeps that told me he was dialing a number on his desk phone. A few seconds passed.

Then: 

"Hey, baby doll. Yeah, I was just callin' to see if we were still on for tonight." He laughed at something the lady on the other end said before continuing, "No, the wife's not coming home tonight. Trust me." 

My eyebrows shot up so far that it almost hurt. Oh my God. 

Oh my God.

I fumbled around quietly for my phone and set it to record, resisting the urge to snicker evily as the Principal continued slobbering all over his mistress. Oh, this was rich. I'd gotten so much shit from Campbell over the years; it was gonna feel real good to see some of it get tossed back in his stupid face.   
I put the phone down on the floor and shifted around under the desk so that I could reach into my back pocket for the reason I came there in the first place. I took out a black box the size of my fist, opened it, and pressed a red button on the inside of the lid. 

 

A tiny bug that Atticus dubbed 'The Mosquito' flew out and hovered in front of my face, waiting patiently for my orders. It was named for obvious reasons: for anyone else that didn't know better, the little drone looked, sounded, and behaved like a regular old run-of-the-mill bloodsucker. Apparently they were really hard to make; installing video and audio surveillance programs by hand in a machine of that size took an insane amount of precision and talent, two things that Atticus had in spades.

I pressed the button again and aimed the laser that the box emitted at the top corner of the underside of Miss J's desk. The Mosquito dutifully followed the strand of light and landed where I prompted.

'What now?' I thought to Atticus as I placed the case back in my pocket. 

'I'll force pair his phone and send him a text to get him out of there,' he answered, 'just hang tight.' 

It was a couple minutes' wait before the principal left. After taking a couple seconds to make sure he was gone, I crawled out from under the desk and bolted around the room, fixing all the locks and making sure that everything was left exactly as I found it. I exited, locked the door, and didn't stop running until I reached Atticus. 

I plopped down beside him, breathing hard. 

"Did you have fun?" Atticus asked with a smirk. 

I nodded and grinned. "Oh my God. Dude." 

"I know." 

"No, seriously." I grabbed his shoulder and shook him excitedly,  "Duuuude!!" 

"I know, I know!" Atticus chuckled as he brushed me off. "Congratulations, you bloody dork." He then got up and slung his backpack over his shoulder, motioning for me to follow. "Now come on."

"Where are we going?" I asked as I stood. 

"To the E hall's chem lab; we've got some time before lunch is over, and I've been working on a little something in my off time," he explained. 

I followed, still grinning my head off. "Dude..."

"I know."


	30. 30

Atticus' POV:

"So? what do you think?"

I quirked an eyebrow at Cardarius. "About...?"

"Uh, miss J! duh. You think she's really a spy?" He said excitedly, jumping in front of me to walk backwards.

I pondered the question for a moment. "Well," I began, "From what you told me, there was just as many real occult objects as there were fake. She could just be a very gifted wiccan who versed herself in the occult. On the other hand..."

"Yeah?"

"Anything is possible these days. These are strange times, my friend; we have to be prepared for the unexpected," I warned grimly. 

We arrived at the E hall chem lab. After doing a quick thermal scan to make sure no one was in the hall or coming around the corner... 

"Abarto et Onir," I intoned. 

"You know, I could've just picked the lock," Cardarius informed me dryly as the door swung open.  
"Sides, I thought you didn't do all that hoodoo shit in public."

"Only small spells when necessary; It would be a shame to allow my gifts to atrophy completely," I reasoned.

My friend rolled his eyes as I began removing my 'project' from my backpack. "C'mon man, how many times I gotta tell you? That accident happened a long time ago, dude. You don't have to hold back cause of me," he said, clearly exasperated. Then he grinned slyly and lifted his hand.   
"Besides..." he said as a visible shock of electricity darted over his skin, "I like the benifits."

It was my turn to roll my eyes. "Don't flatter yourself, it's not only that," I explained as I fiddled with the wires and guts of my masterpiece. "Hand me those two resistors, would you?" I muttered absently.   
"My powers are dangerous and often unpredictable, yes," I continued, "But I prefer to rely on my tech mostly because Alchemy... well." I shot him a grin, "It's just too easy."

"Course you'd say something like that..." Cardarius muttered with a shake of his head. I shrugged. 

"It's true. Now..." I grinned, "Check this shit out." 

 

 

Four Years Prior: 

"AAGH!!" 

...Is probably what would have come out of my mouth if every muscle in my body, including my lungs, wasn't spasming wildly under the incredible strain of the electricity I was attempting to wield. As it was, my body just sort of locked up violently for a few seconds before collapsing pitifully to the ground. In a way, I was luckier for it; if there had been any chance of anyone overhearing my screams, Antioch would have gagged me before we began training.

"God dammit. What did I tell you about focusing the power into your hand?" The Demon snapped impatiently from across the alleyway. He was leaning indolently on one of the thick gym mats that padded the ground and most of the walls to insulate the area. I closed my eyes in both annoyance and exhaustion as I waited impatiently for my body to stop twitching. 

"...To not do that," I ground out, feeling a brief stroke of pride when I managed not to stutter. 

"Uh, yeah. Fucking listen next time," Antioch commanded me. He pushed off the wall and began walking over as he spoke. "I don't know how many times you're gonna make me tell you. Lightening magic is different than other magics, dangerously different. If you try to funnel-" 

"If I try to funnel the energy into a part of my body instead of my target, It'll turn on me," I finished for him, thumping the back of my head on the ground in frustration. I refused to meet his eyes when he stopped above me, electing instead to glare angrily at the wall that I had most recently thrown myself into. He sighed after a moment and crouched down beside me, grabbing my lightly scorched right forearm with one hand and conjuring a vial out of thin air with the other.

I brushed him off and sat up to rummage through my pockets. "Wait. I just remembered; there's something I wanted to try."

"Is that a topical healing tincture? when did I teach you to make one of those?" He asked, eyeing the blue vial in my hand in surprise.

I shot him a grin. "You didn't. I figured it out myself."

"Clever girl." 

Antioch looked on with mild interest as I unscrewed the top and slowly poured a few drops of the viscous liquid onto my injury. I frowned in disappointment when nothing changed immediately as it always did with Antioch's work. My frown deepened when a quick glance at my mentor revealed that he was valiantly attempting to hold back a smile. 

"Shut up." 

"I didn't say anything!" 

"Well, shut up anyway. Wanker." 

Antioch chuckled at my scowl as he stood, motioning for me to follow.  
"If it makes you feel any better, the tincture isn't a complete flop. It's just slow," he informed me as I brushed myself off. 

"Well, it doesn't make me feel better," I growled, even though it sort of did.

I agreed a little too readily for my taste when he suggested that we take a short break. I wasn't normally a quitter, but I figured I'd spent enough time writhing on the ground in pain for one day. Besides, I wasn't too keen on losing my only remaining flesh-and-blood arm to Thor-style target practice. If I couldn't figure out a way to keep myself from focusing my power into my right hand like I was so used to... 

Wait.

"Hang on, Antioch; I think I have an idea!" I called excitedly. 

He turned to regard me with casual interest. "Well, your ideas are usually better than mine. Shoot," he said. 

"Maybe I can focus my power into my hand; just not my right one." I lifted my bionic arm to demonstrate what I meant. His eyebrows shot skyward in surprise before angling into a doubtful frown.

"Wait, can you do that?" He asked slowly. I shrugged. 

"It's worth a shot. How is my left arm different than any other inanimate object? And It's attached to my body, so it might be easier to wield," I reasoned. "I just have to make sure that the flow of energy is directed away from the rest of my body."

"Huh. We haven't tried that before... but it might just work. Just be careful, okay?" 

He had barely gotten the words out before I was already summoning my power. In retrospect, I know exactly where I erred. I could have slowed down, put less energy into it, even chosen a weaker word; any one of those things could have prevented the disaster that followed. If I'd stopped to think for just a moment.... 

But I didn't. And I would carry the consequences of my recklessness for the rest of my days.

I turned away from Antioch and extended my arm towards the wall. "Da 'Avaak Resr," I intoned.

There was a moment's pause before I began to feel the now familiar crackle of static in the air that usually preceded me being thrown bodily in a random direction. I pulled back and thrust my hand, expecting to strike the wall across the alleyway... but nothing happened. The energy just kept building on itself, becoming more violent despite my frantic efforts to abort the command. As I'd predicted, it wasn't affecting me directly. But I knew that if it continued this way, my arm and anything around me would be fried. 

Antioch began backing away. "Atticus..."

"I know! It won't- I can't stop it!!" I shouted over the ever-growing roar of static. Panicked, I started to remove my false arm with my mind, intending to throw it away from us before any real damage could be done. I ripped it off and whirled around, letting the momentum from my spin send it hurtling off behind me. 

Antioch screamed something that was muffled by an explosion I didn't see. I crouched to protect myself from the shrapnel from my arm as it burst apart in a blinding flash of blue light. When it was finally over, I couldn't hear anything over the ringing in my ears. I stumbled to my feet to see Antioch sprinting past me.

My blood went cold when I turned to see an unconscious body on the ground, hair and clothes smoldering. 

"CARDARIUS!!"

.................................................................

Atticus' POV: Present day

"What. Are these." 

I looked on with a grin as Cardarius examined my gifts with fascination and awe, turning it over in his hands to admire them from every angle. 

 

It was a pair of black mechanical gloves. I could understand why he was impressed; obviously intended to be used as weapons, they were both sleek and sturdy in their design, giving off an air of both power and sophistication.

"I call them Shock Gauntlets," I told him, unable to prevent a smug smirk from finding it's way onto my face as I enjoyed his reaction. "They'll not only aid you in concentrating your energy and help improve the accuracy of your attacks, but they'll stretch your power a long way so you don't have to work as hard. Think of it as... fine tuning." 

He eagerly slipped them on, clenching and unclenching his fists and wiggling his fingers to get used to the feeling. He beamed.   
"like a glove."

"That's the idea. I tailored them to fit you and you alone; if anyone besides you attempts to use them... there'll be consequences." 

"So no loaning these puppies out. Got it," Cardarius nodded, "I can deal with that. How do they work?"

"They're run by aluminum air-batteries, so all that's really required for them to work besides your own power is-"

"Oxygen. Nice."

"And the batteries will only need to be replaced twice a month depending on how heavily you use the gauntlets," I finished before bowing with an exaggerated flourish. "Go ahead, sing my praises."

"Hallelujah," Cardarius chuckled. He shook his head in both delight and disbelief as he held his hands out for both of us to see.   
"I don't... I can't even... God damn, these are cool. I don't know what else to say, man."

"I believe 'thank you Atticus' might be an according response." 

He rolled his eyes. "Psh, whatever. But thanks. Target practice after school?" He asked hopefully, but I gave him a look. 

"Some other time. Remember, we have more important matters to see to today."


	31. 31

Atticus' POV:

"So what'd you two get from Miss J's office? Anything good?" Grayson asked. 

We were sitting on the stairwell by the school's back entrance. Hardly anyone used it, so it was the perfect place to meet when we needed a little privacy. 

"Maybe," I replied. Cardarius and I proceeded to tell him our findings. The majority of our report consisted of the more circumstantial evidence we saw, so he grew bored quickly.

"That doesn't sound like too big a deal," he interrupted halfway through, "What's the problem?"

"The problem, Grayson, is this. Cardarius?" I prompted, gesturing towards him. He pulled out the wand on his cue, handing it to Grayson who gave a low whistle. 

"Looks fancy." 

"That's because it is," I said. "What you're holding is Siren scale lining around what we now believe to be a Resistance issued blessed silver core. It's form is impeccable -no doubt professionally crafted- and appears to be able to attack as well as perform the healing functions usually expected of a wand. Even if nothing else we saw in Miss Jackson's office warrants suspicion, this is certainly enough to peg her as a threat."

Grayson gingerly handed the artifact in question to me. "Shit, this is fucking bananas..." he muttered. I was about to agree when a ring from my cellphone cut me off. 

"Right on time," I said when I saw the caller ID. I ignored the questioning looks I got from my friends and answered the call.

"Renegade," greeted a deep voice with a familiar distorted metallic edge.

"X," I replied evenly, jerking back irritably as Cardarius and Grayson leaned in at the mention of the Lexicon master. I sighed and put the phone on speaker. "We've been expecting your call. Is this line secure?"

"I wouldn't be using it if it wasn't. Tell me what you and shockwave found."  
X was never the type to beat around the Bush with formalities. 

"I'm here too..." Grayson muttered sulkily. I assumed he didn't mean for X to hear that little quip, because he looked surprised when a mechanical chuckle drifted up from the phone. 

"Hello, Machete." 

"Uh... hey," Grayson said sheepishly.

"As for the matter of Miss Janice Jackson..." I began, shooting my friends an annoyed look.   
They shut up.   
After that, I relayed for the second time in as many minutes what we found in the office. Though I elected to omit the bit where Cardarius decided to burgle our files, I somehow got the feeling he would find out one way or another. X listened silently until the very end.

"Good work," he said after a moment's pause to make sure I was through. "I'll be expecting pictures and a full analysis of any traces of spirit energy linked to the wand."

"Understood. I'll link the Mosquito feed to you as well." 

"I'll be in touch." 

"Wait!" I blurted quickly, startling Cardarius and Grayson. "Before you go. There's something else," I said. I had to wait a couple seconds before he replied. 

"...What." It wasn't a question; X didn't ask questions. 

"It's about the attack on our apartment. There's been a development." 

"I'm listening." 

I told him first about the two mysterious entities I'd encountered. I spent most of my words on the one who'd accosted me in the midst of the chaos that I highly suspected he caused, how he knew me and my past. X once again remained thoughtfully silent, calmly taking in the information as it came. For some reason, I felt it necessary to withhold the sudden appearance of my childhood friend. It was childish, I knew... but I wanted an opportunity to examine her for myself before the Lexicon got a lock on her, find out what happened to her and Solomon in the years we'd been apart. More than anything, I needed... closure. And I wouldn't get that by dragging her into my world. I couldn't do that to her. 

At least not yet. 

"Do you know anything about who they might be?" I asked when I was finished, almost as an afterthought. It was really just a shot in the dark. I expected him to respond with an immediate no, and that would be that. 

What I didn't expect was the silence that followed. 

"X?" I asked uneasily. The Lexicon Primes were known for their habit of withholding information from their underlings. It was always a need-to-know basis for them; that's just how they operated. 

"X..." I said again, my tone warning this time. 

"...We have our suspicions," he responded finally. 

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. "And you didn't tell me this why?" I asked slowly, endeavoring valiantly to keep my growing anger in check.

"Perhaps you should ask Glitch." He used Antioch's code name.

"I'm asking you!" I snapped. "Tell me what you know!"

When he replied, his voice was calm. "It is not my strory to tell, nor is it my prerogative to interfere. Talk to glitch." 

He hung up.

"X, don't- dammit!" I snarled. Grayson grabbed my phone from me before I could smash it on the ground. 

"Calm down, man. You know-"

"If I hear the words 'you know how X is' one more time from either of you, you're going to be even less fond of me than I am of him right now," I growled venomously.

"Alright, whatever..." he muttered, handing my phone back. "But those powers you described... is there really another Alchemist on the loose out there? I thought you were the only one left." 

I sighed. "So did I. I've never come across another aura like mine before now, and believe me, I've been searching for a very long time." 

"You think they're connected?" Cardarius asked. 

"That remains to be seen. Either way..." my face darkened.   
"Antioch has some explaining to do."


	32. 32

Two AM that morning;  
The Apartment Ruins

"Fuck. Is this what cursed fire does?" Psycho muttered to herself. She dragged her stiletto through a piece of unrecognizable rubble and watched it crumble into ash under her boot, wrinkling her nose in distaste. 

 

"How long does this take? We don't have all night, skits," she called to her partner, who was crouched on the floor a few yards away, eyes closed in concentration as he sifted his hands through the dust. 

 

"You say the same thing on every case," he said patiently, not bothering to look over. "Stop worrying about the time and enjoy the night while it lasts."

"I can't believe you enjoy this shit," she scoffed. 

A soft smile she didn't see crept onto his deceptively young face. "Haven't I told you, psy? The way I see it, any night in the streets is a step above the decidedly harsher reality in my head. So yes. I am very much enjoying this over the alternative," Schitzo explained, drawing a sigh from his friend. 

"Yeah. Fair enough, I guess."

There was a good five minutes of silence following her remark. Psycho took the time to observe her partner as he worked, thinking to herself that no one, including her, would ever envy him his duty. His job was a unique one, a service only he could perform. The Paranormal equivalent to a forensics expert, His incredible gift to detect and pick apart any traces of energy at the scene of a crime, no matter how cold the case, was a highly coveted ability. His role in Anonymous X was invaluable to the Lexicon, which unfortunately meant that he ended up being the most called upon operative in the organization.   
Psycho of course recieved the same attention by virtue of their relationship. She didn't really mind it, though; she considered it an honor more than anything, a privilege to back up the person she considered to be her only family in the entire world. 

"I have it!" He exclaimed, jolting Psycho out of her reverie. His eyes flew open then, his face darkening. "Oh..."

"What? What did you find?" She asked cautiously. She was unnerved by the glazed, far-off look in his eyes. That expression never meant anything good. 

Schitzo let out a strangled gasp and collapsed to his side, holding the sides of his head tightly as he withered into a fetal position. His unseeing eyes grew wide with an unspeakable horror.  
"Oh no. Nononono..." he moaned softly as he began to rock back and forth to calm himself. 

"Skits!!" Psycho darted over to kneel beside her friend, gathering him up partially into her arms so that his head rested on her chest while she hugged his shoulders. "Skits, who is it? Who did you feel?!" She demanded.   
She hoped to God that he wasn't having another fit. If a case was exceptionally violent, or the perpetrator was exceptionally wicked, his gift could just as easily become his curse, hurling him back into the throws of the vicious illness that he'd been named for. His "terrible sanity," as he called it. 

"No, no, no... oh, it's him. It's him!" Whimpered the man in her arms. He gripped at her hysterically as she hefted him up, securing his arm over her shoulders so that she could bear the brunt of his body weight.

"Hang on, buddy. I'm gonna get you out of here," she promised. 

"I'm afraid you won't be going anywhere anytime soon."

Psycho didn't have more than a second to wonder at the unknown voice before she was layed out flat on her back beside her unconscious friend in the pungent ashes, looking dazedly up at the emerald-tinged night sky. 

Emerald?

She sat up to discover that the city around her had changed horrifically. A sinister green haze settled over everything, vibrating with a wickedly potent energy that even an eyeless like her could feel. After seeing that Skits was alright, she slowly stood and drew her gun, scanning the area for any signs of movement. 

 

"At least not until we've had a chance to talk," the voice continued from behind her. 

She whirled around with her gun raised only for it to be ripped from her hands and thrown to the other side of the building. She stepped back when she saw the hooded figure that approached her, shrouded in his signature acid green smoke. 

 

"You," she breathed in disbelief. She hated how her voices cracked in her terror.

The figure nodded in agreement as he came to a halt before her. 

"Me... Hello Blaire."


	33. 33

Atticus' POV:

"Well, Savannah... or Sarah I guess... walks to and from school everday. If we want to catch her, we'd better hurry," Grayson supplied as I fumed silently. 

My head snapped in his direction. "How did you know her name?"

"Don't worry, I told him everything," Cardarius said, "no need to get touchy." 

"I'm not touchy!" I snapped irritably before managing to calm myself. I pointedly ignored the meaningful look that passed between them. 

"Don't worry, we know her route. Or part of it, anyway. We happened to cross paths on king street this morning," I explained to Grayson. 

"Alright, let's wait for her there," he agreed amicably. "Rooftops?" 

"I don't see a better option. Let's go get changed behind the diner across the street."

Cardarius: Shockwave

 

 

Grayson: Machete

 

Atticus: Renegade

 

We changed quickly, stashing our backpacks on the roof of a nearby building. It felt good to switch  out my normal false limbs for the custom weaponized prosthetics that I so prized. They always made everything much more fun. 

We took a circuitous route to King street to make sure we weren't seen, leaping swiftly and silently from building to building. Flying over the city, business as usual.  the three of us ended up perched on a rooftop across from an apartment building near the spot we'd run into her that morning. 

"This the place?" Grayson asked me as we skidded to a stop. 

I nodded. "A lot of kids from Whitney live in that building, most of them taking the same route to school as she did this morning. And even if she doesn't live there, we can follow her to where she does." 

"Yeah. Tooootally not stalking," muttered Cardarius, or rather Shockwave, drawing a sour look from me. 

"We're not." 

"Whatever you say, man."

Sure enough, I caught word from Aristotle a couple minutes later saying that he had spotted Sarah passing by. We watched as she appeared from around the corner and walked past us down the street below.  She was humming an unfamiliar tune as she approached the predicted building.

"What is that she's humming?" I wondered aloud curiously. I wasn't expecting an answer at all, much less the one that Machete supplied. 

"Enter Sandman by Metallica. good taste," he praised. 

"Huh. Didn't see that coming," Shockwave remarked, echoing my thoughts exactly.

She stopped to look over her shoulder before entering her apartment. The three of us stiffened as she looked right at us as if she could see straight through the invisibility glamour I'd cast, then sighed in relief as she shrugged, turned around, and disappeared into the apartment. 

"You think she can sense us?" Machete asked.

"I don't know. It's possible," I said with a shrug.

I activated my left eye and performed a thermal scan, following her signature through the building and making a mental note of her apartment's location on the third floor. I checked for other people in her apartment and was slightly surprised to find that she was home alone. But then, it was only five thirty, so it made sense that her mothers might still be at work.

Sarah opened a window a moment later and climbed out onto the fire escape to sit on the steps. She pulled a laptop and headset from her backpack, hooked them up, and began working on something we couldn't see. After watching for a couple minutes, I decided she must have been composing; every once in a while, she would stop and hum for a couple seconds, her fingers twitching absently as if miming an instrument. Probably piano. 

I would have been content to observe from afar for another hour, but after just thirty minutes, Machete could take no more. 

"This is getting nowhere. What the hell are we even looking for anyway?" He demanded. 

I glanced back to see that he had abandoned  his post in favor of lounging against the air vent in the center of the roof. "This is for her safety more than anything else," I explained. "I had a premonition that involved Sarah, and... it didn't look good."

"So she's in danger, then."

"Very much so."

"Well, we're not getting anywhere like this," Shockwave cut in with a conspicuous yawn. "And I dunno 'bout you, but I don't wanna be stuck here for hours staking out a completely normal girl."

I sighed. "What do you propose we do, then?" 

"Go talk to her! If you wanna find out more about her, you could try just asking," he suggested. 

I shook my head as Machete nodded vehemently in agreement.   
"Guys, come on..." 

"Look. she doesn't even have to know it's you," he interrupted, "Just kind of, you know... make nice. Let her know that something's up and tell her to be careful. Be up front." 

"..."

"She deserves to know if she's in danger, dude," Machete said seriously, giving me a hard look that I could feel through his mask. 

"You're right," I sighed, "You're right. I'll go down, just... give me a moment."

They were silent for a moment as I pointedly turned away. 

"...Oh. My. God," came Machete's incredulous tone. 

"What?"

"You're nervous!" He accused, prompting me to whirl about in shock. 

"What?! I most certainly am not!" I protested. I fumed as he and Shockwave both laughed. 

"Uh-huh. Right. you've gotta get over your fear of girls, man," he snickered, drawing a snort from my supposed 'best friend.' 

I glared daggers at them both. "I am not afraid of...! Christ. Just stay here," I finished in a dejected mutter.

I ignored their snickering and launched myself over the side of the roof to land silently on the fire escape stairs a couple floors below Sarah. I took a deep breath and walked up to where she was sitting, my nerves building with every step. As much as I hated to admit it, my friends were right; I was afraid.  

'Might as well get this over with,' I thought to myself as I came to a halt beside the step she was sitting on. She was so engrossed in her notation that she didn't even notice me. 

I stood there uncomfortably for a good half minute before taking another deep, calming breath and preparing my best American accent. 

"Good evening."


	34. 34

Somewhere over Nevada, 6:30 PM, Anti's POV:

If there was one good thing about being forced to shadow cloak my slow ass across five state lines, it was that I finally got some time to think. 

The past two days had given me a lot to chew on. The fire. The vision. The deviant beasts. Atticus' attacker. And last but not least, the sudden and shocking appearance of Atticus' freaking uncle. We'd looked everywhere for the bastard for years without any leads, and he chose to make his grand appearance now?

Fucking why? 

As it turned out, I ended up getting the answer a lot sooner than I would have liked.

I was within minutes of crossing  the border from Nevada into Callie when what looked like a blue pillar of light erupted in front of me, bringing my flight to a screeching halt. It disappeared seconds later, leaving me to wonder if I'd hallucinated the whole thing.

'What in the actual fuck...?'

'Not what. Who. Also, my apologies; I had to get your attention quick.' 

I almost lost my concentration and fell out of the sky at the familiar voice. 

'Atticus,' I snarled in my head. I immediately hurled myself towards the earth, straining to establish a lock on his location as I began my descent to the ground over a thousand feet below. 

'The one and only. Well, at least I used to be,' he ammended.   
'I hear my nephew took my name. Kinda flattered, actually.' 

'Pretty shit choice if you ask me,' I shot back. I was five hundred feet up and closing.   
'It's not like you did anything to deserve the honor. He's probably done a lot more good with that name than you have in your entire life.' 

'Wow. You really hate me, don't you?'

'You have no idea.'  
A hundred feet; almost there.

'Oh, you'd be surprised.' 

My shadows slammed into the earth like an asteroid, shaking the earth and leaving a smoldering, me-sized crater in their wake. I reformed and stepped out of the hole to see that I had landed in the middle of a forest; a quick scan told me that the nearest city was at least ten miles away. I was grateful that this was happening in the middle of nowhere instead of a populated area. Even at the risk of civilian and/or police involvement, I'm not sure I could have stopped myself from confronting him. 

I closed my eyes and concentrated on locating him only to find that he was pulling the same stunt with his energy signature as he had in the alleyway the day before. I wouldn't find him unless he wanted to be found. 

"Cute trick. Now cut it the fuck out before you really piss me off," I demanded as I continued to scan the area. 

"Yeah, see, I didn't come to fight," his voice echoed around me, "And no offense, but you have a bit of a violent reputation. So I'm gonna need your word that you'll at least hear me out before you start throwing punches... or those little needles you're so fond of. I don't think I'd make a very good pin cushion." 

"Oh, you want my word? Fine. I give you my word that if you don't come out and face me right the fuck now, I'm gonna shove my mace so far up your ass that you'll be gagging on steel," I snarled, summoning the weapon in question. "So what's it gonna be?" 

There was a pause, then a chuckle.

"Well. I suppose that's a sensible enough offer." 

There was a flash of movement off to my right followed by a soft 'oof' sound. I turned and was both dumbfounded and annoyed to see him standing bent over a little ways off from me, rubbing his shins with a grimace. Jesus. Was this clown really Atticus' uncle?

"Ugh... that is the last time I hide out in a tree. I'm getting too old for this," he groaned. He then straightened up to give me a sickeningly bright grin.   
"Alrighty then! Shall we get down to business?" 


	35. 35

Atticus' POV: 

"Good evening," I greeted in my best American accent. 

In hindsight, I realize I could have handled myself a bit better. I don't know what reaction I was expecting her to have to a stranger appearing behind her without warning so late in the afternoon, but the one she had certainly wasn't a positive one.

Sarah let out a startled Yelp at the sound of my voice and shot to her feet, nearly dropping her computer. She backed away fearfully, hugging her laptop to her chest.

"Stay back! I'll scream!" She threatened shakily. "I-I mean it!" 

I put my hands up in what I hoped was a peaceful gesture. "Please. I mean you no harm."

She didn't answer; instead, she began edging backwards towards the window, her frightened eyes darting back and forth between me and her only escape route. She seemed to stop for a moment with a thoughtful look on her face as if she was considering cooperating. I watched her carefully as she took a breath to speak...

And ran for it. 

She flinched and screeched to a halt, nearly crashing into me as I quickly stepped around her to stand in front of the window. I steadied her with a hand on her upper arm before she could fall back. She froze for a moment at the contact before drawing in a deep breath to scream. I clapped my other hand quickly over her mouth, hating the terror that shone in her eyes as I did so. I'd felt fear like that before, and it was never a good experience. having it directed at me, though... that was something I liked even less. 

She struggled and managed to wrench herself away, forcing me to handle her a little more indelicately than I would have liked. If she made good on her threat to scream, I was done for. Gently as I could, I pulled back on her arm, twirling her around and pulling her back against me before once again placing my hand over her mouth. I hoped to the heavens that she wouldn't be able to feel my prosthetic hand through my gloves and realize who I was. I wanted more than anything to tell her... but I couldn't bring myself to drag the wool completely off her eyes just yet. When I took off the mask the next day, I wanted her to see just Atticus, not Renegade. 

"I just want to talk, Sarah," I whispered. "Please. Just give me a chance."

I waited with baited breath as she stilled, debating her options. I could practically hear the wheels turning in her head. I held back a sigh of relief when she nodded slowly. When she moved to step away, I let her go, letting my arms drop unthreateningly back to my sides.

I watched her as she walked slowly back to the stairwell to put her computer down before turning back to me. I nearly flinched when she reluctantly met my eyes, her expression guarded. God, did I hate this. 

"...Who are you? How do you know my name?" She asked. Her voice was slow and soft, not so much fearful now as unsure. 

I shifted uncomfortably at the question and looked away. Bleeding hell this was hard.  
"I... I can't say. I'm sorry." 

"Why were you watching me earlier?" 

My gaze shot back to her in shock; this just got a lot more interesting. "So you could sense me."

"A little," she shrugged, "I-It was more of a hunch I guess... Are you going to answer me?" 

"Perhaps we should go inside to talk," I proposed lightly, with a sweep of my hand to indicate the window behind me. "We're too exposed here."

"I'm not letting you in my house!" She snapped with sudden ferocity, all traces of fear in her eyes overtaken by a flash of anger. I almost took a step back at her vehemence.

"Sarah... Savannah," I ammended, not wanting  to frighten her anymore than I already had. Her eyes both softened and hardened suspiciously at the sound of her real name.   
"I would never hurt you. You need... I need you to trust me." 

"..."

"Please," I added softly. 

She regarded me silently for a moment. Then, she closed her eyes and sucked in a breath as if gathering her courage. 

"Swear to me." 

"My word is my bond, Sarah. You can kick me out at any time," I promised her. 

"What about now?" She shot back snarkily. I was grateful for the mask that hid my smile. 

"After we talk."


	36. 36

Anti's POV: 

"Alrighty then! Shall we get down to business?" He asked with a bright grin.

I scowled in return. "Yeah. Business. So what should I call you? 'Cause I'm sure as hell not calling you Atticus."

"Well..." his smile faded as he thought for a moment, "My middle name is Bartholomew, but that's kind of a mouthful... how about just Saul for now?" He suggested. Ugh, there was that disgustingly sunny smile again. What was this guy's deal?

"Fine, whatever. You wanna tell me why you almost shot me out of the sky just now, Saul?" I demanded irritably. I still hadn't put away my mace; I was kind of hoping he would give me an excuse to use it. 

"Hey, come on now. It's not like I was attacking you, it was just a flare." 

"Spill it. Now." 

"Yeah, I'm getting there," he sighed. His expression became abruptly serious.   
"I came to warn you. There's a storm coming, Anti; you and Atticus need to be prepared for the worst." 

"And the worst would be...?" I prompted, unimpressed. 

"You must have heard by now about all the chaos that the Beasts have been causing lately. The Resistance, Anonymous X, the Hunters and Magistrate... everyone has their hands full with damage control. The darkness is becoming bolder, Anti. It'll only get worse from here," he told me grimly. 

My brow furrowed. "I've heard. What do you know about it that we don't, Saul?" I asked curiously.   
"I somehow get the feeling that you're building up to a bombshell here." 

He closed his eyes and bowed his head slightly as if carefully considering his next words. 

Then he spoke. 

"A newborn darkness   
Will become the key   
That the blood of Abel's blood   
Will turn. 

An infant light   
Will become the seal   
That the blood of Cain's blood   
Will break.

And thus the old shadows   
Will cast off their shackles   
To slake their hunger   
With the blood of the earth." 

He stayed silent for awhile after he was done, not bothering to grant me any clarifying commentary on his ominous recitation. I was shocked speechless for a couple seconds before I managed to close my jaw. 

"You taking up poetry, Saul?" I scoffed callously as I tried to banish the chills creeping up my spine. "Word of advice: don't quit your day job." 

"It's not a poem, Anti. Nothing so simple," he said gravely.   
"It's a prophecy... about you."


	37. 37

Atticus' POV:

I ducked to step inside the window before turning to offer her my hand. She hesitated for a moment, but eventually reached out and gingerly placed her hand in mine, allowing me to lead her into the room.

I closed the window. 

I didn't turn to her immediately. I let her carefully step around me and listened to the soft shuffling sounds that told me she was sitting on the bed. I stood there facing the window for a few seconds more before walking over to her desk and settling down in the chair. We just sat there, regarding each other silently. I was relieved to see that there was more curiosity in her eyes than fear; the absolute last thing I wanted was for her of all people to believe I was a threat. 

"So um..." she shifted awkwardly and glanced away, not knowing what do do with herself. "Are you going to tell me who you are?" 

I shook my head slowly. "I can't. I'm sorry." 

"Figures," she muttered. Her gaze returned to me. "So what do you want from me?"

"From you? Nothing. Your wellbeing is my first priority," I told her honestly. 

Her brow furrowed slightly. "Am I... Am I in some kind of danger?" 

"We have reason to believe so, yes." 

"I'm sorry, we?" She echoed suspiciously. 

"I'm an operative of a vigilante organization of sorts; I promise you, you have nothing to fear from us," I assured her. 

"Alright... so what should I fear?"

It was my turn to avert my gaze. "I... don't know. Not exactly," I admitted reluctantly. 

"Is that all you came here to tell me? That you don't know?" She demanded. I decided that I liked her anger even less than her fear. 

I sighed heavily. "I'm here to tell you that it may be best for you not to sit on the stairwell anymore," I told her. "We don't know exactly who or what is targeting you, Sarah, but the danger is undoubtedly present. Aside from today, have you sensed anything else out of the ordinary?"

"What do you mean?" 

"This is our first time surveilling you. I need to know if you think anyone else has been following you," I explained. I grew uneasy at the troubled look that passed over her young face.

"Oh dear..." she whispered.   
"That... that makes this a lot worse."


	38. 38

Anti's POV: 

I was spectacularly underwhelmed at his grave statement. 

"A prophecy. About me," I echoed flatly.

He nodded. "Well, you and Atticus, among others. But it involves you, Anti; you have to take responsibility for your role in this." 

"I don't have to take responsibility for shit!" I snapped angrily, "and neither does the kid. You show up after nearly two decades without a God damn word and expect us to just drop everything to scurry to your beck and call?"   
I shook my head and resolutely crossed my arms. "Uh, yeah. No fucking thanks." 

He was right to look ashamed. After what he had done -or rather hadn't done- to Atticus,  there was no God damn way I was about to trust this schmuck, and I knew that the kid would feel the same. I had no patience for traitors. 

"...I'm sorry. But believe me when I say that I did only what was necessary. It's my biggest regret, Anti, but it had to happen this way. The fate of the world-" 

"And what about your nephew's fate?" I demanded before he could finish, "What about Atticus? He deserves more than what your brother gave him. He deserves more than the 'fate' you pushed on him!"

"...I can see that we're not going to get anywhere tonight," he sighed defeatedly, scrubbing a hand down his face. "I'll come back when you've had some time to think on it, clear your-" 

I cocked my head at him when he stopped abruptly and swiveled around to stare at something off in the distance. I could feel how restless his aura had become without even trying to sense it. 

"Uh... you okay, buddy?" I asked slowly, wondering what it was that had disturbed him so deeply. 

"No, no, no... it's too soon. He can't know, not yet..." he muttered to himself. 

"Who? What are you talking about?"

He turned to me, revealing the deep fear in his eyes. 

"The infant darkness," he whispered.   
"Sean McLaughlin."


	39. 39

Anti's POV: 

My jaw dropped to the forest floor. "Are you fucking serious?!" 

"As a Wraith attack," Saul confirmed, his voice stricken. "He's about three miles off and headed straight for us. I have to go now, Anti; he can't know that I was here, or even that I'm alive." He began to back away. "Tell Oliver... tell Atticus that I'm sorry. For everything."

He took something out of his pocket and gave me one last apologetic look before hurling it to the ground. There was a loud pop and a burst of bright blue smoke... and he was gone.

'Fucking hell.'

I debated whether or not to do the same. It had been eight long years since I'd last seen Jack, enough time that I really had no idea what I was up against. Did I really want to face him without backup? Then again... Jack and I were still linked together, Demon and vessel. If he really wanted to end both of our lives, he wouldn't have waited eight years to try it. He was up to something else, and for better or worse, I intended to find out what. I sighed and hunkered down to wait. 

A little under ten minutes had passed before I was finally able to sense him. He was about a mile away, taking his sweet time. I braced myself for the worst as he drew closer. 

Half a mile. 

A quarter mile. 

The air thickened immeasurably as the distance closed between me and my vessel. The once lovely scenery suddenly seemed dark and polluted, plagued by an insidious presence that almost made me shudder. Silence reigned as the forest stilled and caught its breath, choking on an inexplicable, instinctual fear. Yhe temperature plunged, and the world darkened into a sinister shade of green. 

 

I kept my expression carefully blank, refusing to let the shock I was feeling show on my face. The sheer magnitude of the dark energy he emitted was made all the more frightening by its casual nature. His aura was terrifyingly relaxed and somewhat calm, neither flared nor concealed. if this was what happened when he wasn't even trying... who knew what else he could do? 

He had finally surpassed me. 

A portion of the shadows on the opposite side of the clearing melted away to reveal... me. The old me, back when I believed that I belonged to the darkness. He was dressed in dark clothes and surrounded by strands of acid green and black smoke that drifted lazily around him like living things. His eyes were the brightest thing about him, gleaming with a cruel intensity on his otherwise emotionless face. The brutal condemnation in his damning gaze sliced through his smoky aura and bore straight into me.  
You did this, his eyes accused me. You killed me and took my place.

 

I closed my eyes for a moment, tired of looking at the result of my mistakes. He hadn't moved an inch when I opened them again.

I was the first to break  the silence.

"It's been awhile, hasn't it?" 

"Yes." 

The both of us remained silent for awhile. We just stood there, quietly sizing each other up. 

I broke after about a minute. 

"Did you come here to fight me, Jack?" I asked flatly. 

"No." 

"...Then why are you here?" 

He paused thoughtfully and looked away for the first time, considering his next words. "I was on my way back from following up on a loose end. You just... happened to be in the way." 

"Does your owner know that you decided to pop by for a chat?" I inquired mildly. 

His eyes flashed with annoyance, the first emotion I'd seen from him since he touched down. "It doesn't matter to Fell any more. We're done hiding in the shadows, Anti. I'm done." 

His face returned to its chillingly neutral state. "You might want to hurry back to LA. I took the liberty of dropping off a little 'welcome home' gift at your friend's house," he informed me cryptically before bursting into acid green smoke and flying over my head to shoot off through the trees. 

"Wait! What the fuck did you do?!" I yelled after him as he disappeared into the night. The only answer I got was the haunting echo of dead laughter.

I yanked my phone out of my pocket and quickly dialed Atticus.


	40. 40

Atticus' POV:

"I've been followed for a couple days now," Sarah told me. She looked down and began wringing her hands as she spoke. "I... I never actually saw anyone, but I could sense them. You know, like I did you." 

I nodded. "I believe you. Do you have any idea who they might be?" I asked, searching her face, "Can you think of anyone at all that might have a motive to stalk you?" 

I was halfway hoping she would say yes. If it was someone that she knew, then it would most likely mean that they were a normal human that we could deal with quickly. My heart dropped when she shook her head slowly.

"No idea." She looked at me, "Are you sure it wasn't someone from your... whatever your group is?"

"I'm positive. This is the first time that we followed you, Sarah. If it was a Crow, I would have been notified." 

I rethought my statement even as I said it, remembering how jealousy the Lexicon guarded information from even their own. For all I knew, it could have very well been a Crow. 

Sarah's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. " A Crow? Like the bird?"

"Not exactly. I'll explain more later. For now-"

I stopped as I was interrupted by a ring from my mobile; it was Antioch's ringtone.

"Pardon me for a moment," I excused myself as I stood and turned away from her to answer it.

He started talking the moment I answered. "Atticus. We've got trouble."

"You have a lot of explaining to do, Glitch," I growled. 

"What? Whatever, never mind. I just ran into Jack-" 

"Wait, he's back?!" I exclaimed. My head was reeling from shock. Why would he return after all this time?

"Oh yeah. He came bearing some pretty bad tidings too," Antioch said grimly. "You at the Calloway's?"

I glanced briefly back at Sarah. "No, I'm occupied at the moment. Why?"

"You'd better get back there quick. Jack said he left something for you at your friend's house; I can only assume he meant the Calloways."

"Damnit! I'm on my way," I told him, sending a brief mental message to my friends and Ari to get ready to leave. "We still need to talk, though."

"Couldn't agree more. I'll see you there, kid."

I hung up and turned back to Sarah with a weary sigh. 

"Who was that?" She asked curiously. 

"That," I said, "was an associate of mine. my apologies, Savannah; there are some pressing matters that require my immediate attention."

She stood up as I stepped towards the window. "Will I see you again? You have some explaining to do too, you know."

"I'll drop by as soon as I'm able and explain as much as I can," I promised. "And please, no more sitting on the balcony at night. Keep your doors and windows locked and call this," I grabbed a pencil and scribbled my Cell number on a notepad on her desk, "if you feel that you're in danger. I will always answer." 

"...Thank you." 

"Why are you so quick to trust me?" I asked as I opened the window to duck out of the room. I turned back and leaned on the windowsill for her answer.

She shrugged. "I don't know. I just... have a feeling, I suppose."

Interesting. 

"I'm sorry to drop all of this on you so suddenly," I sighed. "I may not be able to tell you my real name just yet, but I'm known to my associates as Renegade."

"Renegade..." she echoed with a soft smile. "It suits you."

"You don't even know me," I pointed out in amusement. She simply shrugged again in answer. 

"I feel like I do." 

"...Goodbye, Sarah. Stay safe."

I closed the window behind me.


	41. 41

Atticus' POV: 

I was flying over the rooftops the second I left her room, not bothering to wait for my friends to follow. If something had happened to the Calloways... 

No. I couldn't think like that. 

'Atticus, What's happening? You said that we're going back to the apartment. Is it my parents?' Cardarius sent me as he and Grayson followed me a couple building back, struggling to keep up. 

'I don't know, Cardarius. I didn't get a lot of information from Antioch,' I admitted. 'All I know is that it involves Jack.'

The only answer I got from him after that was a garbled mess of fear and anger as his mind became too distressed to focus. I didn't blame him; it was taking everything I had not to panic. 

When The three us finally burst through the door of their apartment, closely followed by Ari, the scene we walked into was both a surprise and a welcome relief.

"Oh good, you're here," Cici greeted us from the couch. "Maybe you can talk some sense into these two." 

Jensen was walking back and forth between the kitchen and living room with hot water, washcloths, and medical supplies. Cici was sitting on the couch beside the absolute last two people I expected to see.

"Now do you believe me?" Cici asked Pycho irritably before turning back to us. "And boys, take off your masks, there's no need for that in this house."

The three of us peeled off our masks and shucked our jackets off as we examined the so-called 'Manic Duo' with both curiosity and suspicion. I looked them over carefully, taking in every detail; Psycho looked calm, but her partner was hunched over on the couch, shuddering and rocking back and forth. They had both sustained multiple injuries, but it was obvious that Pycho had bourn the brunt of the attack. Interestingly enough, all the cuts were shallow grazes, most likely front a sharp projectile weapon. Non-fatal by design. A layer of ash coated their clothes.

So they had been investigating the ruins of our old apartment when they were blindsided by an attacker with a crossbow and/or throwing knives. Schitzo had some sort of fit that incapacitated him, leaving his partner to fight alone. The way that each wound just barely missed several major arteries made it clear that whoever attacked them was playing with them.

Antioch was right; this had Jack written all over it.

"We had to be sure, didn't we?" Psycho sniffed. Her voice was muffled by the respirator she still wore. "You could have been lying when you said you knew the quartet," she pointed out.

"I've never lied in my life, girl!" Cici snapped. "Now could you please take off ya damn clothes so I can fix up more than your hands and feet?"

Psycho narrowed her eyes and grinned mischievously. "Suit yourself."

 

Every jaw in the room save mine dropped as her clothes melted away like brightly colored water. When the process was done, Psycho was gone; in her place sat a normal girl in her bra and some leggings. She laughed loudly as Jensen turned on his heel and left the room. 

 

"What?" She asked, "Did you think I actually dress like that all the time?" She continued snickering as no one answered. 

"Ah, the reactions never get old," I said, thoroughly amused by the expressions of shock on everyone's faces. I had dealt with Psych's antics enough times not to be surprised by her little parlor trick. 

"That," Cici said finally, "was an impressive illusion, honey. Hell, even I couldn't sense it. Where'd you learn a trick like that?" She asked curiously. 

The girl shrugged and leaned back on the couch, throwing her arms over the back. "Taught myself. I used to use them to hide myself in plain sight when I lived down in the tunnels." 

Seeing that Cardarius and Machete hadn't managed to lift their jaws from the floor, I decided to explain.   
"Psycho here specializes in third eye illusions," I clarified. "Her glamours are so intricate and complex that they can outwit even a master like Mikhail. Truly a wonder," I praised, smiling as she preened at my flattery.

"Well. We'd better get you healed up then," Cici said as she stood and motioned to her son. "Cardarius honey, would you mind undressing Skits here so we can get started?"

"Yeah." He walked over to where Psycho's partner was still shivering on the couch. "Come on, buddy," he prompted soothingly. He lifted Schitzo's arms to take off his jacket and shirt and sighed when the man jerked away from his touch. "Little help here with Schitzo, Grayson."

"his name is Leslie," Psycho cut in, "And you can call me Blaire."  
She hissed through her teeth as Cici began dressing her wounds.

"Blaire it is, then. That's Cardarius, Grayson, and Cici," I said, pointing to each person as I named them. "The man who just left the room is Jensen, and you already know me."

Blaire snorted. "I think everyone in Anonymous knows you. Ow, easy!" She growled at Cici. 

"Sorry baby."

"Blaire... Is it true that you were attacked and brought here by Sean McLaughlin?" I asked. 

Her face darkened at my question. "If you're talking about the asshole who goes by Jack... yeah. We met. It wasn't pleasant."

"I imagine so." I pulled in a chair from the kitchen and sat down in front of her and Cici. 

"Tell me everything, Blaire."


	42. 42

Atticus' POV:

Thirty minutes later, we were all settled down in the living room with our normal clothes, listening to the tail end of Blaire's story. Leslie had calmed down quite a bit and was even able to insert a bit of his own commentary every once in a while.

 

From what Blaire and Leslie told us, their ordeal went down exactly as I'd already surmised. I waited patiently until the end before asking her to describe the battle in more detail; she had skimmed over it too quickly for me to learn anything useful. 

"It was... God, he was brutal," Blaire told us with a shudder. She looked down at her lap with an expression of shame and anger. She clenched her fists. "I didn't stand a chance. He was just so damn fast... it was like I was barely moving. Like I was a glorified punching bag!" she spat bitterly. I felt a pang of sympathy for the girl; I didn't take defeat well either. She was fairly shaking with rage when Leslie quietly reached over and took her hand, prompting her to look up at his shaky, but kind smile. 

She took a deep breath and continued. "It was like he knew every move I was going to make before even I did. He could have ended me if he wanted to, but..." her brow furrowed. "He didn't. Why?"

"Probably wanted to send a message," Jensen answered before I could. "Shallow wounds like that... he was just playing with you. When we see victims like that down at the precinct, we know that they weren't the real target." 

Interesting. So what message were Jack and Fell trying to send? Were they warn us away? Baiting us? Or were they simply toying with us, leading us in circles with false positives? I would revisit that thought later.

I turned to address Leslie. "You mentioned some kind of 'episode' earlier... can I ask you to expand on that? Perhaps you could  describe your abilities to us," I suggested mildly, making it clear that it was his choice; I didn't want to make the fragile man any more uncomfortable than he already was.

Though I had been on several cases with Blaire, I had never met her partner face to face. The only things I knew about him were that he only came out at night, didn't work with anyone but Psycho, and for the most part, only appeared in the aftermath of an event like the apartment fire. Beyond that, I had no idea who he was or what exactly he could do.

Leslie nervously glanced at Blaire before answering. "I uh... I don't really talk about my powers much..."

"You don't have to say anything you don't want to, darlin'. We can always do this later," Cici offered kindly. 

"No. No, I'm okay." He took a deep breath and straightened up a bit, gathering his confidence.  "Like I said, I don't talk about this often." 

"I used to think that I had Schizophrenia. My family did too; that's why I spent most of my childhood going in and out of a mental hospital. None of the treatments worked. Therapy, hypnosis, medications... I did it all."

"So what was it really?" I inquired curiously. 

He flashed me a grin. "Schizophrenia." 

"Wait, you just said-"

"Oh, make no mistake; I'm definitely insane. Totally certifiable. Cuckoo for coconuts. But maybe I should have been a little more clear. We thought that Schizophrenia was the only thing I had. But no, I wasn't that lucky." 

The more he spoke, the more confident he seemed to grow. The nervous, shuddering wreck that we'd first met disappeared bit by bit to be replaced by a surprisingly lively young man. 

"Some of the episodes are just a by-product of the illness, but some of them are useful. I only learned to tell the difference between the two after I shawshanked my ass out of that hell hole and met Blaire." 

"He had a vision of me falling onto the subway train tracks," Blaire explained. She squeezed his hand, smiling at the memory, "he sprinted across town in that stupid white robe to save me. If he'd gotten there just a few seconds later..." she looked down, "I wouldn't be sitting here right now." 

"So you have premonitions, then," I surmised after a moment. I found myself becoming excited at the prospect of having a seer on our side that wasn't one of the Hosts; if Leslie had been experiencing and interpreting visions his entire life, maybe he could help me decipher my own. 

Leslie rocked his head from side to side. "Not very often. Those are actually really rare for me. Nah, the attack you saw earlier was caused by an Inkling."

Seeing the puzzlement on all of our faces, he sighed and continued. "You all know about Aether, right? Spirit energy. The same concept as the force or midi-dolorians or whatever."

"Midichlorians," Grayson muttered. We ignored him.

"Like I said; whatever," Leslie said as he waved a hand through the air in dismissal. "Anyway, anytime someone uses magic, they leave trace amounts of their own unique essence behind. It's kind of like... magical DNA. My job is to gather that DNA and analyze it to find out who used what magic, where, and for what purpose. Unfortunately..." he looked down. 

"There are side effects," I guessed. "I'm assuming that when you explore the aether traces, you take on some of their essence yourself. That's why when you felt Jack's aura..." 

"It shut me down. Completely," he finished softly, closing his eyes in obvious pain. "He was just so empty. He wasn't dark or evil... he just wasn't there. It was like falling into a black hole."   
He looked up at me then with exhaustion and fear in his eyes. 

"It was like dying."


	43. 43

Anti's POV: 

I flew back to LA with a speed I didn't know I had in me. I also didn't know that it was possible for shadow cloaking to be physically exhausting, but there's a first time for everything. After about two hours of rocketing through the sky at full velocity, I actually had to drop out of the sky for the first time in my life, too tired to continue while keeping my shadows from falling apart. It was about eight o'clock when I touched down on King street two blocks from the apartment. I hit the ground running, forcing myself to ignore my burning limbs. 

'I am SO fucking out of shape.'

I was just rounding the corner when I felt it. I screeched to a stop and whirled around, scanning the area as I panted for air. Was that... Atticus' aura? What the fuck was he doing here? He should have been at the Calloway's by now! 

It took a couple more seconds for me to realize that it wasn't him. Though the energy I was sensing was remarkably similar in makeup, the feeling was different.  The kid's aura was untamed and intense by default, a trait that reflected his impulsive personality. This one was chillingly Calculating and calm, giving away none of the wild emotion that Atticus gave off if he didn't control himself. 

I was just about to call out for them to show themselves when the unsettling presence vanished, gone as quickly as it had appeared. 

Whatever. I'd come back later. 

I turned on my heels and began running again, leaving King street in the dust.


	44. 44

Anti's POV:

I crashed through the door to the Calloway's about three minutes later, chest heaving as I struggled not to slump to the floor. 

"What happened? What did that mother fucker do?!" I demanded in a pant, scanning the room for any sign of Jack's touch. To my surprise, nothing seemed to be amiss; just the usual suspects (plus two randos) sitting calmly in the living room, all of looking at me as if I'd grown a second head. All except for the kid, who was glaring at me like I'd just killed his bird. 

"Uh... Atticus?" I asked, a little too meek for my liking as he stalked towards me with a grim expression. I suppressed a flinch when he grabbed my arm and dragged me back outside without a word as the others looked on in silent bemusement. Ari had just enough time to dodge out the door before Atticus slammed it shut, lighting on the kid's shoulder with a disgruntled caw. When he spoke, his voice was deadly soft.

"...You know," he said as he turned slowly to me, "I'm getting really tired of being treated like a child. I expect this kind of shit from the Lexicon, but you, Anti?"

"What?" 

"Don't fuck with me right now!" He snarled. "Those two men from the fire. You know something," He accused. It wasn't a question. 

"...Who told you that?" I asked slowly. 

"It doesn't matter. Talk. Now," he demanded angrily. 

I sighed defeatedly and slumped back against the wall. No going back now. 

"Fine. I don't know anything about the one who attacked you," I began hesitantly, "But the other guy..." 

"Spit it out, Antioch." 

"It was your uncle." 

His face went blank for a moment as he stiffened, going completely still. About a minute passed in total silence. 

"...And you decided to keep this from me," he said finally. He was practically a statue, hardly moving except to blink and breathe.

I nodded. 

He whirled away from me with a bitter curse and began walking down the stairs, Ari fluttering behind him. 

I grabbed his shoulder before he could go, causing him to stiffen. "Atticus, I'm-" 

"If you want to keep that hand, I advise you to remove it from my person," he ground out lowly without turning back. "I'm going away for a couple hours for your safety. If you attempt to follow me, I can't be held responsible for what happens to you." 

With that, he jerked himself out of my grasp and stalked away, leaving his threat to hang heavily in the air.

"...Sorry," I finished quietly as he disappeared.


	45. 45

Anti's POV: 

I stood there staring after him for a couple seconds before trudging back inside, knowing there was nothing more I could do. Family drama sucks ass. 

"Where'd little Attie go?" Cici asked when I walked in alone. I shifted uncomfortably as everyone's attention turned to me. 

"Getting some fresh air; he'll be back in a bit. So who are the new kids?" I asked, eager to change the subject. "And why does she look like she went through a meat grinder?" 

"Okay, one: she is sitting right here," the girl snapped. "Two, I'm not a kid and neither is he. Three, it was a meat grinder that looks a lot like you." 

"Oh shit. So you're the loose end," I realized aloud. Seeing her confusion, I continued, "Just some cryptic shit Jack dumped on me before sending me here. Sorry you had to deal with him," I said. I meant it, too; she looked like she'd been through hell. I turned to the other newcomer to introduce myself, only to see that he had gotten to his feet and was eyeing me warily, like he was deciding whether to attack or run. 

"Uh... you okay?" I asked, wondering what I had done to put him so on edge. I turned back to the girl when I didn't get an answer. "What's his deal?" 

"There there honey, you're alright," cici crooned soothingly, taking the shaken man by the shoulders and gently pushing him back on the couch. He resisted briefly before allowing himself to be seated, never once looking away from me. 

"Take another look, skitz; it's not him," the girl said softly, calming him down a bit. His eyes narrowed as he looked me over. After a moment, he began to relax and breathe normally again.

I looked on in puzzlement, not really knowing what was going on... then it hit me. "Wait. You thought I was Jack, didn't you?" I asked. I shook my head in dismay when he gave a grave, wordless nod. "What did he do to you?"

"You missed some shit, man," Cardarius told me grimly. 

Atticus' POV:

I flew over the cityscape in the darkness for the third time that night, allowing my rage to carry me across the rooftops. I callously allowed my feet to slam down onto every surface they touched, reveling in each near-painful shock, all thoughts of stealth thrown carelessly to the wind. 

I seethed endlessly as I ran. Wasn't I one of the most powerful and most called upon Crows in Anonymous? Was I not Antioch's most trusted friend and brother? Why did everyone feel the incessant need to withhold such important information from me? 

Why didn't they trust me?

I sacrificed so much of my time, so much of my strength every day with my efforts. I was steadfastly loyal, unwavering in my duty to my friends and the organization; that should count for something! But no; I was a squall, a foot soldier of the lowest clearance level. Even to Antioch, I was still just a bloody child. 

I repressed the urge to scream as I leapt further still into the night in a vain attempt to escape my troubles.

It was an oversight of my wrathful musings not to check if I was being followed.


	46. 46

West Europa, 69 A.D.

They came at dawn. 

They struck like lightning, tearing into Arioch's home like theives in the night before mounting their deadly attack. His meager family of four stood no chance against the fifteen Assassins sent by the light; Arioch's brother and father were dead before they had even opened their eyes to face their murderers, and his mother held out for only two minutes before she too succumbed to her assailant's advances.

Job done, the Knights set the humble house ablaze, doing the same to the forge and the Shed before disappearing back into the night from whence they came, leaving their victims bodies to burn with their broken home. 

Ten minutes later, Arioch, now a spritely young man of twenty years, returned from his early morning excursion to the well. He dropped both buckets of water in shock as he was greeted with the smoldering pile of ash and dust that stood in place of his home. A single dagger was left behind, emblazoned with the brand of the light. Arioch fell to his knees in grief and despair as the rising sun shone on the grisly remains of the massacre that he knew his family had no chance of surviving. He knew that, had he not left the house for that scant twenty minutes, he would have burned right along with them. 

The guilt of that knowledge was unbearable. 

For the first time since his boyhood, Arioch hung his head and cried. 

____________________________________

Antioch's POV: 

I don't remember much about the scene Arioch and I stumbled into that morning.

What I do remember is screaming. 

When Arioch and I first laid eyes on the wreckage, I actually grieved with him. Though I didn't realize that it was possible at the time, I had loved his family as much as he did. But when he lifted his teary eyes again, allowing me to spot the dagger on the ground and recognize the insignia... there were no words to describe the hot, primordial rage that welled up within me, more potent than anything I had ever felt. The raw excess of power that flowed through me as a result of my rage was incredible; if I hadn't been so angry, I might have even enjoyed it. 

But as it was, all I could do was lift my head to the heavens and scream, long and loud.

Arioch followed suit as a result of my will, letting loose a deep,  primal cry that resonated dissonantly with my own. And then, suddenly, I was standing, looking down at... me? No, not me;  Arioch. I was looking down at Arioch, who was still on his knees, weeping with his head bowed. I backed away in shock, on my own two legs. I lifted my shaking hands in front of my face and turned them over, staring in fascination as they opened and closed when I willed them to do so.  

'What... what is this...?'

It was surreal, seeing this body someplace other than in a mirror or on the surface of a lake. I lowered my hands and turned my attention back to the man before me. He was standing now, staring at me with the same shock and awe that I was feeling. 

"You are real..." he murmured numbly. 

I looked down at myself as if to confirm his words, examining my new body. Just now noticing my nakedness, I conjured up a black shirt and trousers before meeting his eyes again. 

"I am," I confirmed, my confidence growing. 

"You are a Demon?" 

"I am." 

This seemed to give him pause; he stepped back, eyeing me warily.   
"Are you going to kill me?" 

I cocked my head at him in a thoughtful gesture I'd learned from him, considering his words. Would I kill him? Part of me certainly wanted to; there would be a certain sweetness in avenging myself for all those years trapped inside him, my unwitting prison. But there was another part of me that knew instinctively that we were still deeply connected. Ending his life would mean sacrificing my own. 

"...I will not kill you," I said after a moment. He seemed to relax a little at this. His tear stained face was impassive and void of emotion; how strange, to not know what he was thinking. 

"Then what will you do?" He asked.

I told him the truth. "Whatever I want." 

Knowing that there was nothing left for me here, I turned and walked away from him into the night, following the footprints leading away from the house; it looked like the Resistance assassins were headed east, towards the cities along the bay. I would start my search in Herculaneum. 

"What are you called?" He asked. I didn't stop, calling the answer over my shoulder.  

"Antioch."


	47. 47

Anti's POV:

I sat back and gave a slow clap for effect when they were finally done.   
"Damn. That's a hell of a story."

"It's more fun to tell than it was to live it, I can tell you that much," leslie muttered after I finished my applause. "I guess we're all on this case together now, so... what next?" 

Well, wasn't that the question. Unsurprisingly, no one really had an answer at first. Even I was at a loss, despite my extensive experience; pretty sure my doctorate in demonic douchery didn't cover fuster-clucks of this magnitude.

"Hang on," Grayson said suddenly, piping up for the first time in almost thirty minutes. He abruptly stood and leaned over Cardarius' chair to rummage around in Atticus' backpack on the other side, drawing an annoyed grunt from his friend. When he pulled back, he had a... was that a wand in his hand?

"Here," he said before any of us could ask, offering the object to the man that I now knew as Leslie, "Can you do your inkling thingy on this?" 

Blaire bristled and protested even as Leslie let Grayson drop the wand into his waiting palm. "Hey, he doesn't do tricks for peanuts! You can't just-" 

"It's fine Blaire, really," he assured her before she could finish. She huffed, but begrudgingly sat back. He began scrutinizing the wand thoroughly, running his fingers along the sharp scaled lining. "I'm already pretty beat, but..." he sighed, dropping his hands to his lap. "If it's important, then sure, I can deal. Do we know who owned this?" 

"A possible Resistance spy we've been looking into. I don't think her aura would hurt you too much," Cardarius reassured him, seeing the exhaustion in Leslie's eyes. 

Leslie sighed again, this time in relief "Ah. Good. I don't think I could take another headache tonight." He lifted the wand and closed his eyes. "You wanna see what she's up to? If she's in the city and the traces are strong enough, I can track her for you in real time," he offered. 

To my bemusement, both Cardarius and Grayson looked to me for the answer. Huh. Apparently I defaulted as team leader when Atticus wasn't available. 

I gave a noncommittal shrug. "Might as well; I don't have much more steam to blow off either, but I could work on my endurance. Work your magic, Skitz." I turned to the lady of the house while he got to work. "Cici... you and Cardarius might want to stage some more wards and probably some traps around the place," I suggested lightly. "No offense to your usual work, but..." 

"I know," she said, waving me off, "We can never be too careful. Come on, baby." She motioned for Cardarius to follow her as she pushed off the couch with a sigh. "Anti, there's leftovers in the fridge. How 'bout you serve up dinner while we get to work?" 

"Wha- why does the Demon have to do it?!" I demanded, pointedly ignoring the chuckles that Cici's order drew from the others. 

"'Cause it's funny," she clipped over her shoulder as she and Cardarius disappeared into the back hall. "Dinner better be on the table when I get back, boy."

I growled and shoved myself off the wall to stomp into the kitchen as the three Crows left in the room burst into wild heaves of laughter. I was briefly overcome with nostalgia for the days when I was a feared force of nature rather than a glorified sous chef. 

I had just removed the casserole dish from the fridge when a loud gasp from Leslie sent me scrambling back into the other room. I entered to find him leaning tiredly on Blaire, looking as if he was about to pass out. 

"What, what is it, what did you see?" Grayson asked eagerly. Leslie's eyes flicked to him. 

"I got a lock on her," he deadpanned, "On the move. Eastbound. A mile off... and She's after Atticus."


	48. 48

Atticus' POV: 

I ended up perched over eight hundred feet in the air on the edge of the Aon in downtown LA. The building was actually my second pick; my perch on the Los Angeles bank tower had been recently obliviated by the last remaining dregs of a terrorist organization called the Lambs of War that we'd taken down two months prior, so I didn't have much of a choice. 

My brooding session was interrupted by the sound of footsteps behind me, followed by a familiar energy signature. I sighed, but didn't turn around. 

"Good evening, Janice." 

"Where's my wand, boy? I know you have it," the woman bit out in an uncharacteristic snarl.

I almost cracked a smile; looks like I owed Cardarius twenty bucks. "So it's true, then," I said. "You know, it's funny; I was actually rooting for you."

"I'm flattered. Now give me what I want, and I'll allow you to leave with all your remaining limbs," my former vice principal demanded. 

Now that made me chuckle. Knowing that the confrontation was unavoidable, I finally stood and to face her. Miss Jackson was dressed in her full Resistance uniform, all leather and metal. It was an unusual shock, but it somehow suited her better than her usual blouse and slacks. 

I cocked an eyebrow. "Antagonizing an invalid, Miss Jackson? Really, what has become of our education system?" I mused.

She didn't respond but to glare daggers at me, a sentiment that I was sure would soon be anything but metaphorical. 

"I'm afraid I don't have the wand on me," I admitted. "Can we do this another day? I'm really not in the mood."

It was her turn to laugh as she drew two wicked looking Resistance issued swords off her back. "Sorry, but no; You know how we teachers feel about procrastination..."

"I see. Well in that case, I'm afraid the wand is the least of your concerns." I sunk into an offensive stance with a downright savage grin. "You picked the wrong night to provoke me, Janice."

Anti's POV:

Grayson and I immediately leapt to our feet at Leslie's announcement, he to yank his mask back on and I to summon my own gear. Leslie tried to stand as well, but Blaire shoved him back down onto the couch.

"Sit your stubborn ass back down, Skits," she growled, cutting off his indignant protests. "They can handle it."

"Ugh, fine," Leslie huffed, crossing his arms petulantly. "But you guys are probably in for a battle; she's armed to the teeth and strong enough to sense my breach. She pushed me out herself," he warned us. 

"Duly noted. But like she said, we can handle it. Cardarius, get in here!" I called, my voice muffled by my mask. The teen rushed into the room a few moments later, followed closely by Cici.

"What are you shoutin' about, boy?" The witch demanded irritably, "The last thing I need is another noise complaint."

I answered with a command to Cardarius. "Slip into your super suit, Shockwave. Atticus is in trouble." 

Cici cursed as her son jumped to follow our lead. "Shit, that boy is the trouble. You kids go on, I'll follow in the car."

"Told you those trackers would come in handy," Grayson said smugly. 

"Yeah, you did. Now git!"

We were out the door before she finished speaking.


	49. 49

Atticus' POV:

Antioch may have been right about my lack of control when it came to anger, but I'd be bloody damned if it wasn't handy in a fight. Say what you will about the siths, but I personally believed they had the right of it; emotions are powerful tools in the throes of battle, meant to be embraced rather than smothered. Anger in particular sharpens the senses, augmenting the reflexes and painting the opposition in a sharp relief that becomes easier to follow. 

This battle was no exception; my dagger and my own left arm met my opponent blow for blow as I easily blocked each advance she made. For her, it quickly became a matter of how long she could hold out, of how many steps backward each swing of her swords cost her. I noted with amusement that the more frustrated she became, the more sloppy and reckless she got, her composure fading in the face of her impending defeat. She possessed none of the silent strength and power that I had come to expect of the Resistance. 

As I was now... she was a child.

After nearly five minutes of prolonging the stalemate, I decided that I was done. 

She screamed out her rage as she parried my first real attack, spinning artfully out of the way of what would have been a crushing blow to the side of her head. As expected, she took my bait, extending one of her swords on her way back around to slash at my right side. I saw her eyes widen in shock as I deliberately dropped my dagger and reached to intercept her with no protection. By the time she realized what I had planned, it was too late for her to pull out. 

Her sword collided with my bare hand, painting my face with the resulting spray of blood. I ignored the pain and closed my fist tightly around her blade to prevent her from pulling back. I blocked her other sword with my left arm, sending a moderate shock of electricity into the metal. She cried out and dropped it, unable to retain her grip. 

"What- Let go! You're insane!!" She growled as she jerked back on the handle in a vain attempt at retreat. I ignored her and instead tightened my grasp as the blade sliced deeper into my palm, bathing it in my own blood. 

My left fist met her temple with a metallic clang, dazing her and sending her stumbling back. I tossed the sword to the other side of the roof and kicked its twin out of her reach before she could make another move. 

"You know what? I do believe I've changed my mind," I said as I moved to stand over her, so close that the blood from my hand stained her clothes. 

"I am most definitely in the mood."

Anti's POV: 

It was true; those trackers he shot us up with really did end up coming in handy. Thanks to them, finding Atticus was an easy matter to deal with. 

What we saw when we caught up to him was not. 

We arrived at the Aon building ready for a battle, only to find that Atticus apparently didn't need our help at all. We landed on the roof just in time to see the kid reel back and deliver a brutal (and pretty unnecessary from the looks of her battered body) kick to his opponent's abdomen that had her gagging and curling into the fetal position on the ground before introducing his metal fist to her cranium, immediately rendering her unconscious. 

There were no words to describe the stone cold gleam in his eyes. 

"What the fuck..." Machete whispered. 

Actually, those words worked pretty well. 

Atticus turned to us, revealing the splash of bright red that painted his face. The ferocity drained from his eyes to be replaced by a slightly guilty look when he registered various states of shock and horror.

"I tried to tell her; She picked the wrong night."


	50. 50

Atticus' POV: 

Our former vice principal finally surfaced with a pained groan, slowly lifting her head to squint weakly against the warehouse lights. Though it was obvious that she was in a lot of pain from her broken ribs and possible concussion, I found I couldn't be bothered to dredge up the barest bit of sympathy. I waited until she realized where she was and began to struggle against the ropes binding her arms and legs to her chair before approaching her.

She froze when I stopped in front of her, apparently just now registering that she wasn't alone in the room. Machete, Shockwave, and Glitch stood silently a little ways behind me, still wearing their masks. I was the only one who hadn't bothered to conceal my identity, knowing that what I was about to do would be infinitely more effective face to face. 

I crossed my arms, looking down at her thoughtfully. "You're certainly in a spot of trouble, aren't you?"

She seemed to take exception to my flippant tone, renewing her struggles. "You brat! Untie me right now or I swear to God-"

"God," I cut in, "is not here, Janice. Not for you. Now..."

I moved closer, leaning my hands on the arms of the chair and bringing my face within inches of hers.

"I believe you have some explaining to do, Miss Jackson." 

Anti's POV: 

I was just as shocked as everyone else. The vicious, almost thoughtless way he took her down, and now this menacing aura... When did he get so God damned ruthless? 

I wasn't initially going to allow Atticus to do the interrogation. But after he reasoned that he'd spent more time around her and would know her better, I had to hand the job to him. I allowed it because I believed he wouldn't be nearly as messy as I tended to be. 

Guess I was wrong. 

I knew I was partially to blame for setting off his legendary temper. I just wished he could understand; this was what I was trying to prevent, this implosion happening right in front of my helpless eyes. When he got angry, he turned dangerous. Dark. He was like a machine, a completely different person. Sometimes I thought the only thing that kept him from going completely darkside was his need to protect people, to prove himself. If he didn't have these missions to direct his energy into... I honestly don't know what he would have turned into. 

"What does the Resistance want with us? Are they targeting Anonymous?" Atticus demanded. 

She held his gaze with a brave glare when his proximity left her unable to avert her eyes. 

"Answer me, Janice," He growled softly, warningly.

She turned her chin, remaining defiantly silent. Atticus sighed wearily in a way that made me think he was going to give her one of his annoying lectures. What actually happened next was infinitely more shocking. 

Atticus slowly reached down... 

...Gently took her pinky finger between two of his own... 

...looked straight into her eyes...

...And fucking snapped it. 

Cardarius and Grayson flinched at the scream that she was unable to hold in. I couldn't blame them; I actually barely suppressed a cringe myself. 

"Can we just skip to the part where you break?" Atticus asked calmly when she managed to stifle her cry. "I assure you that I am in no way enjoying this tedium."

"Go... fuck... yourself," she spat bitterly through clenched teeth between her ragged pants. 

He swiftly crushed the ring and middle fingers on that same hand. This time, Cardarius just ducked out of the warehouse completely, unable to take the screams. I cursed under my breath and turned away, shoving a hand through my hair. I knew I didn't have room to talk. After all, It's not like I hadn't done much, much worse in my time as a torturer. But the kid... it was just wrong.

I reluctantly turned back around, promising myself that I would step in if things got too out of hand.

Miss Jackson let out a dry, breathy chuckle when she saw Shockwave bolt. "Looks like your little friend can't take the heat, brat."

"Oh, he'll be fine. The question is... can you?" He asked, moving his hand to once again hover threateningly over hers. A flash of fear shone in her eyes before it was quickly masked. Like any good interrogator, Atticus jumped at the opportunity to use her uncertainty against her. 

"Just tell me why you were sent here, Janice," he told her calmly, attempting to reason with her. "Unlike the Resistance, we don't dispense with prisoners when they have exhausted their usefulness. You'll leave here alive with no further injuries if you just tell me what I need to know." 

Janice's eyes suddenly clouded with fury. She leaned in until her nose was nearly touching his.   
"I'm not giving you anything," she hissed. 

Atticus slammed two of his metal finger tips onto her pointer finger, breaking it in two places.

I'd had enough. 

"Atticus!" I barked sharply, stopping him before he could do any more damage. He tensed for a moment before smiling grimly at Janice.

"Pardon me, Miss Jackson; the good cop is calling." 

His expression was unfathomable as he walked over to where we were standing. Grayson looked away, obviously uncomfortable. 

"What?" Atticus snapped. 

"What do you mean, what?" I hissed angrily. "What the fuck did I tell you about overkill?!" 

"I'm more concerned with the things you haven't told me, Antioch." 

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose; I was getting one hell of a stress headache from all this. "Listen. I know you're angry, but this... it's a bit much," I said wearily.

"I can't get past her mental barriers without shattering them and possibly giving her permanent brain damage. Would you rather me put her in a permanent coma, or inflict injuries that will heal with time?" Atticus demanded irritably. 

"I... honestly don't know. Not for nothing kid, but you're reminding me a lot of myself right now." 

Atticus stiffened, clearly struck by my words. "...In what regard?" He asked slowly. 

"I'm pretty sure you know, Atticus."

He looked away and paused in thought, and for a moment, I was hopeful. 

But then his eyes darkened. 

He whirled around and made a crushing motion with his fist. "Braaki Jierda!" 

There was an awful crunching noise, and Janice howled as the every bone in her hand contorted and snapped visibly beneath her skin. I froze in shock and Atticus turned back to me with a dark fury in his eyes. 

"How could you think, for even one second, that I enjoy this?" He hissed, jabbing a finger into my chest. "I'm doing this because it's the better option. I'm not going to kill her. I'm not going to send her into a coma. What I am going to do is get answers, by any means necessary."

With that, he jerked back around and stalked over to where Janice was tied down, cringing and moaning with pain. "I'm driven by necessity, not some sick, sadistic urge," he shot over his shoulder.

I found myself overcome with relief even as he snapped the thumb on her untouched hand. Sure, it was dark, and unpleasant, and messy; it always was with torture. But as long as he wasn't driven by the act itself... I could take it. 

I held back yet another cringe at her next scream. 

"Okay! Okay, I'll talk!!"

Oh, thank God.


	51. 51

Atticus' POV: 

"What the fuck was that?!" Glitch shouted. His shock and dismay mirrored my own mood exactly, and I didn't have to turn around to know that Machete probably looked a little queasy. 

I sunk into a crouch and did a mental scan of the area, every sense on high alert. It didn't take me long to locate and lock onto the all too familiar aura just beyond the wall of the warehouse. It was faint and obviously repressed, but definitely there: The Alchemist. From the night of the fire. 

I growled and turned to Antioch to warn him of my findings when Shockwave burst back in the door. 

"What happened? I heard... I... oh God," he trailed off as he registered the corpse of Miss Jackson slumped over in the chair. 

"No time to explain!" I snapped. "Glitch, do you-" 

"Yeah. I sense him," He growled, already bolting past Shockwave and through the door. The rest of us quickly followed suit. 

"We'll take point. Follow our lead!" I yelled over my shoulder to Machete and Shockwave. "Contact Cici and tell her we need some cleaning work done here." 

They nodded and leapt into action, quickly scaling the side of the building after Glitch and I. We saw him as soon as we hit the roof, a dark hooded spectre standing menacingly on the next building over, holding a crossbow. He was watching us silently, seemingly waiting for something. The figure turned and fled immediately as we gave chase, dodging any obstacles with relative ease as we darted after him through the air. 

"I felt this guy's aura earlier, on my way home," Glitch informed me. "He disappeared before I could check, but I'm pretty sure he was following me."

I considered his words with growing unease. On a dark whim, I decided to ask: "Did you happen to be on King street when you sensed him?"

"Wait, how'd you know?" He asked in surprise. 

"...because that's where Sarah lives."

"Fuck! Well, when we catch this guy, we can get some info. Just let me take care of it this time, alright? We've gotta talk about your interrogation technique." 

" It worked, didn't it?" I snapped, annoyed that he was still on about that. We had more important things to worry about at the moment. 

"..."

"think whatever you want, Antioch. Just... don't lose faith, alright? At my very core, I will never change. I swear it." 

"Of course you say that now..."

"What?" 

"Okay, survive nearly two thousand years and then try using the word 'never,'" he told me irritably. "Doesn't quite hold the same weight in that context, does it?"

"Oh no," I breathed, aloud this time. 

"Yeah, that's what I thought." 

"No! I meant 'oh no' as in that!!" I shouted, pointing at the oncoming flood of shadows blocking our path. 

Anti's POV:

I looked where he was pointing and got the shock of my life. A haunting of wraiths -and yeah, that's what they're really called- suddenly shot up from the narrow alleys before us to intercept our next jump. Knowing that Atticus and I were the only ones who could maneuver ourselves in the air, I cloaked and shot for Machete, slamming him out of the way just in time to save him from a collision with the Wraith that was reaching hungrily for him. After a rough landing for us both, I looked over and was relieved to see that Atticus had done the same for Shockwave. I attempted to count the Wraiths as they closed in, crowding us together on the rooftop. 

 

"One, two, three..." I muttered to myself before cursing. "Seven... no, eight. Shit!" 

We were all huddled back to back in the center of the roof as the dark Beasts surrounded us, twitching restlessly within the darkness they emitted. I watched as the hooded figure disappeared into the space between buildings, his aura evaporating as if he'd never really been there at all. 

"Glitch, take three. I'll take two," Atticus barked as they drew closer. "You guys take the remainder. Everyone ready?"

His answer was a unified 'No' from the group. I could almost feel the kid's smirk. 

"Too bad." 

The Wraiths charged.


	52. 52

Anti's POV:

"No." 

I wasn't ready, not for this at least. 

"Too bad." 

What I was ready for was the moment I could smash that fucker's face into the ground for messing with the kid. Wraiths? Sure, whatever, no problem. I was jonesing for a fight anyway. The worst part was seeing that cliche bastard disappear out of sight, beyond our reach. I somehow felt like he was laughing at us, fucking us over for his own sick amusement. 

I hated how familiar that sounded. 

I dodged away from the Wraiths, jumping high into the air and raising my arms high above my head as I concentrated my power into my hands. I let out a cathartic war cry on the way down as I slammed my fists into the roof, letting loose a powerful shockwave of light that destroyed one of the beasts, stunned another, and sent the last one reeling back with a hiss as it just barely avoided the same fate. 

I stood and yanked my fists out of the concrete, flexing my fingers and shaking my hands to loosen them up. I approached the remaining Wraith with a grim smile as it cocked its head at me, twitching its long fingers and tittering in agitation. 

"Aw, you scared?" 

My grin widened when it backed away slightly. 

"Good," I said, and lunged. 

Cardarius: 

I knew Atticus had given us the lightest loads on purpose, but I wasn't about to complain. 

I blasted the nearest Wraith with a thick bolt of lightening, watching in satisfaction as it promptly disintegrated into a cloud of smoke that hung uselessly in the air. It was a temporary fix that would only stun it for three or four minutes tops, but it would do. I started a mental countdown in my head as I turned my attention towards Machete. 

He was caught in an evasive dance with his own opponent, struggling just to keep it distracted as it lunged for him again and again, screeching in frustration when it came up empty. The thing stilled when it sensed my presence behind it, whipping its head back and forth between the two of us as it considered the new situation. 

"How do you gank these things again?" Machete called to me over the sounds of Glitch and Renegade's ongoing battles. 

"For us, the manual way; Cut off their head to stun them and take out the heart," I answered, easily dodging the Wraith as it lunged for me, bony fingers outstretched. 

"Right. Keep the heat off me, I'm going in!" He pressed a button on the side of his bo staff and pulled it apart, revealing a long, thin blade around two feet long that jutted out of the middle. 

I did as he asked and kept the thing's attention on me with little controlled shocks that were too small to injure it, but just big enough to piss it off. Machete crept up behind it while I worked, careful to keep himself positioned behind it. Thirty seconds later, it was headless and on the ground, writhing around and twitching grotesquely.

I held my breath against the acrid smoke it emitted and knelt beside it, thrusting my gloved hand through its stomach to grasp its heart. 

Atticus' POV: 

I found myself wishing I had brought my mask with me. Just wearing that simple piece of cloth over my face made everything a little easier. Though it was true that Atticus Solomon had no innate love of violence, Renegade felt differently; he would definitely be in his element here. 

I intentionally gave Glitch the heaviest load because, as a light wielder, he would have a great advantage over shade wielders like the Wraiths. I glanced away from my own battle to check on him; good, he was holding his own. I quickly dispensed with the beast I was focusing with a light spell and waited for the other one to draw back before turning my attention towards Machete and Shockwave. I was pleased to see that they had taken their training to heart and had already taken down one of their opponents with relative ease. 

Assured that everyone was accounted for, I turned back to the remaining Wraith before me. 

"Seris Luxis!" I commanded, flinging my right hand towards it, palm out. 'Burning Light;' a fitting spell to assure any shade wielder's demise. A blast of ethereal light shot out of my palm, instantly engulfing the beast before it had a chance to get away. It died writhing and screaming, its shadows eaten away by the unrelenting light. 

And that was that. 

I turned to gaze off in the direction that the hooded figure had fled. I briefly considered giving chase, but almost immediately discarded the notion. The Wraiths had fulfilled their duty as a worthy distraction; he would be long gone by now. 

Resigned, I sat on the edge of the building to wait as the others began wrapping up their own battles.


	53. 53

Third Person POV: 

In her one hundred and twenty-two years on this earth, Cecilia Calloway had seen her fair share of morbidity. So when she walked in the door of the decrepit warehouse, she wasn't fazed in the slightest by the gory scene before her.  
The wizened Witch sighed, shaking her head as she examined the corpse of her son's vice principal with a pitying gaze. 

"Couldn't get yourself outta this one, could ya honey? Poor thing," she murmured as she began untying the ropes that bound the body to the chair. She noted the faint residue of healing energy on the woman's cold hands with disapproval; what had they done to this poor girl? She took out her phone to take multiple pictures from every angle. She noted the strange hemorrhaging of the blood vessels in the untouched eye, as well as the odd lack of leakage from the exit wound. She made sure to include the wall where the arrow had entered; Whoever had shot Miss Jackson was obviously an experienced archer, especially seeing as he'd shot without actually laying eyes on the target.

Cici started to heft the body before  thinking better of it, deciding to use telekinesis instead. "Carrying bodies is bad for my back anyway. Come on, sweetie," she sighed, heading for the door with the corpse and chair in tow. The Demon was going to be buying her lunch, she decided. He wasn't the one who'd asked the favor, but any opportunity to piss him off was one she would take. 

Atticus ' POV: 

We dropped by Sarah's apartment on the way home to set up some mosquitos and motion detectors that would notify us of any disturbances. I didn't know what that man wanted with sarah, but i wasn't about to take any chances with her life. With that done, we headed home without a word, drained from the shock of the last hour. 

We were nearly a block away when Antioch broke the silence. 

"Atticus." He sent to me, his tone hesitant. I sighed. 

"What is it?" 

"First of all, I can't tell you how sorry I am for keeping that shit from you. No more secrets, okay?" 

"I appreciate that. Thank you." 

"That said... I actually ran into your uncle again." 

I glanced back at him, shocked. "What?! When?" 

"Right before Jack popped by. He ran away before the ass touched down; I don't think Saul wanted him to know he was there."

"Saul? Is that what we're calling him now?" 

"Well I'm sure as shit not calling him Atticus," He scoffed. 

"Agreed. We'll talk about this later, Antioch." 

We touched down on the roof of the apartments to take off our masks before dropping down to the second floor.

I heaved a resigned sigh as Cardarius unlocked the door. "Time to put our forensic skills to work, I suppose. Lovely. "


	54. 54

Atticus' POV: 

I cringed at the body laid out on a sheet in the middle of the living room. The arrow hadn't yet been removed. 

"This isn't how I thought my night would go," I sighed as I kneeled down beside the cadaver. 

Anti huffed out a laugh. "You seriously haven't learned to expect it? This shit really shouldn't shock you anymore." 

"Right you are," I muttered. "Shockwa- erm, Cardarius- would you mind fetching my case from the bedroom?" I asked. I began examining the body in the interim, gently turning the head to face me. I cocked my head at the odd hemorrhaging in the arrowless eye.

"Cici, did you see-" 

"Yep," she cut in. She stepped up behind me to look over my shoulder. "Mighty odd; I don't suppose the arrow did that." 

"No," I agreed. "And there should be more blood from the exit wound... hm." 

"What is it?" Cardarius asked curiously. I thanked him as he set my tool bag beside me. 

"If I had to hazard a gues... Miss Jackson was mostly dead before the arrow hit," I answered gravely, drawing shocked looks from my audience. "If I were to perform a craniotomy, there's a high likelyhood that I would encounter a cerebral edema; an intense swelling of the brain," I explained.

Antioch whistled. "Pretty high level stuff." 

"Yes..." I murmured absently. I turned the head away from me and snapped off the nock of the arrow before slowly sliding the remainder out of the eye. "Ugh." 

"Wait. Lemme see that," Antioch demanded. He snatched the arrow from my hand and stood, holding it to the light. After a brief moment of intense scrutiny, he froze, his eyes widening considerably. We waited for him to explain, but he remained silent in his disbelief. 

"Uh... you okay dude?" Grayson ventured to ask. The Demon seemed to come back to himself, shaking himself out of his shock.

"Well that's something I haven't seen in awhile," he muttered. He handed the object in question back to me. "That," he said, "is Jack's arrow." 

"Are you serious?" Grayson groaned. 

"I think I've had enough of those things inside me to know one when I see it," Came the Demon's snarky retort.

I blinked. "That means..." 

"Yeah," he nodded gravely. "The mystery asshole that sicced those Wraiths on us is working with Jack and Fell." 

"And the plot thickens..." I said quietly. 

There was a pause as we all considered the new information. 

"Okay, two things," Cardarius broke the silence. "One: if Fell and Jack are after Savannah too, then her situation is way worse than we thought. And two... why would Jack just loan his weapon to some guy? It doesn't seem like his M.O., even if they are allies." 

I hadn't even considered that. But thinking about it then, it seemed obvious: "They wanted us to know. This was just another step in their little game." 

"I'm so fuckin' done," Cardarius growled, wincing when Cici wacked the back of his head. 

"Watch your mouth, boy!" She snapped. "And you better not be too done to lug Janice here outta my living room. Lord knows I've had enough of dead bodies today," she grumbled as she left the room.  

I turned to my friends when she was gone. "Actually... would you two mind taking care of that? There are some pressing matters I have to discuss with Antioch." 

There were a few brief complaints before they begrudgingly agreed, wrapping the body into the sheet and allowing me to cast a glamour over them before they left. Assuming that they were going out of the city to bury the body, I assumed that they would be back in a little over an hour.  

"Come on," I told Anti, grabbing my tool kit and pushing off the floor. "We can talk while I repair my leg."


	55. 55

Antioch's POV: 

I quickly discovered that freedom was nothing like what I'd expected it to be. It was one thing to form your own opinions and desires, but it was quite another to be able to act on them. 

I ended up passing through the first village without incident. I was so, so hungry, but I was reluctant to hunt; I didn't know how to use any of my powers, so even if I had the slightest idea of how to feed, I wouldn't be able to defend myself if I were discovered by the Light. And so my first day of freedom passed without any of the sustenance I so sorely needed. 

And that was only the beginning of my problems. I only knew what Arioch did, and aside from the traders that occasionally passed by his home over the years, he knew very little about what all went on outside his tiny pastoral village. Arioch's lack of experience was a glaring handicap that was impossible to ignore, especially since his parents had told him next to nothing about the Paranormal world despite being a part of it themselves. They apparently preferred to hide away, secluding themselves from any possible threat rather than fighting it. That way of life had been their doom; I couldn't let It be mine. 

'So what will you do?' Came Arioch's voice in my head, like a ghost. 'Where will you go now that you are free?'

"Be silent!" I hissed, grabbing my head as if to shake myself free of the specter. "How are you still in my head?!" 

My vessel's voice had been plaguing me ever since I first left the village. The first time I heard it, I'd briefly considered turning back to confront him about it, but did away with the notion when I realized that the likelyhood that he was still where I'd left him was very slim. 

It frustrated me beyond measure that even now my prison still haunted me. How long would I have to endure this?

(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())

I had nearly made it to the dawn of my third day when I finally collapsed from hunger. I grunted as I fell to my hands and knees, sullying my clothes with the resulting splash of muddy rain water. I gritted my teeth and attempted to hoist myself to my feet, only to be struck by a bout of nausea that forced be right back down into the muck. I groaned weakly and rolled to my back, panting with exertion from even that simple motion. I didn't catch more than a glimpse of the blackened sky before my eyes closed involuntarily against the downpour.

I raised a fist and let it fall again, striking the ground at my back and sending more water into the air. "Dammit..."

I was ready to just lie there and allow myself to drift off to sleep when a voice that belonged to neither I nor Arioch broke through the rain. 

"Having trouble, friend?"

Despite my weakness, I shot upright in shock and whipped my head around to see a man standing a little ways behind me, his arms crossed as he regarded me calmly. I eyed him warily, sizing him up.

 

He was like nothing I'd ever seen before. Though his features suggested that he was of eastern descent, his skin was stained a deep gray that would make any corpse look lively in comparison. A dark veil of black and silver smoke rolled off of him in continuous streams, bleeding into the air around him and partially obscuring his body from view so that I was could only see a little bit of him at a time. The only things that weren't devoid of life and color were his eyes, two pinpricks of bloody red light that shone steadily through his fluctuating aura. 

From what I could see, He was at least three inches taller than me, and much stronger by the looks of it. Not to mention the fact that he was obviously a shade wielder of some sort, a master of an art I had yet to begin to understand. 

If he decided to attack...

I was dead.


	56. 56

Antioch's POV: 

"Are you so weak that you've lost the ability to speak?" The dark stranger asked coolly. His voice was only just loud enough to carry through the rain, "Or does your lack of response stem from fear?" 

I lowered my head in a stony glare as I pushed to my feet and sunk into the fighting stance that I'd learned from Arioch; it was more of a defensive pose, but it was the only one I knew, so it would have to do. 

"I am not afraid of you," I snarled venomously, allowing the very fear I had just denied to be buried by my anger. "Do what you will; I will never run!" I proclaimed. 

The stranger regarded me for a moment longer before nodding slowly. "Yes, I can see that. Very brave... but very foolish. You have much to learn." 

He fell silent and made no further move. I cocked my head at him, confused. Why was he not attacking? Based on the exceedingly violent nature I could sense through his aura, I'd expected him to lunge at any moment. We both knew he could easily overpower me... so why, then, was he holding himself back?

"Are you wondering why I haven't torn you apart yet?" the man asked as if in response to my own unspoken questions. 

I hesitated before giving him a quick nod. "...Yes." 

"Perhaps I should," he mused thoughtfully. "It is in our nature, after all. However, unlike the vast majority of our species, I find it far more wise to ask 'why' rather than 'why not' before choosing a course of action. I've saved my own hide many times in doing so."

I jerked back in shock, not at his answer, but at the underlying implication. Our species, he'd said, our nature. Was he...

"You are a Demon?" I asked carefully. 

He dipped his head, somehow managing to make a nod look graceful. "Indeed. Saaya is the name I have chosen for this life; what are you called?" 

I decided that it would be better to make a friend rather than an enemy; the latter option would most likely be bad for my health. 

I dropped the fighting stance and answered, "Antioch. My name is Antioch."

"Well met. From where do..." 

His words faded, overshadowed by Arioch's voice as it returned once more to annoy me: 'Be careful; Demons make dangerous friends. They are exceedingly mercurial and will betray your trust if it suits them.'

"Be quiet," I muttered, turning away from the other Demon to grip my skull harshly. "Just leave me in peace already!"

"Ah, I see. You are stricken by the Remnant," Saaya remarked, reminding me of his presence. I waited a moment to make sure that Arioch was gone before looking back into his red eyes curiously. 

"The... Remnant?" I asked. 

"Yes, the voice you hear in your mind. It sounds like your vessel, does it not?" 

I nodded quickly, hoping that I didn't look too eager. The corners of the Demon's lips twitched upward in what might have been a smile if it weren't for the chill behind it. 

"Worry not; your prison is far behind you. The voice is merely an echo, caused by the sudden rending of your first bond," he explained. "It will fade in time, and your mind will be your own." 

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked, forcing myself to remain cautious despite my relief. 

"That," he said, "is an excellent question. Whimsy, perhaps?" 

To my utter shock and amazement, his entire body suddenly disintegrated right before my very eyes. In his place was a nebulous mass of the same black and silver smoke that had been surrounding him moments before. The cloud was dense and behaved differently than any vapor I had ever seen, retaining its shape and refusing to dissipate even in the pouring rain.

Was he... was Saaya... gone?

I quickly discovered that no, the red-eyed Demon was still very much alive; I could still sense his presence, clear and sharp, emanating from within the roiling nimbus before me.   
I could hear my own heartbeat as it accelerated, pounding out a rapid tattoo within my tightening chest. The air seemed to thicken, making it increasingly difficult to draw breath. My limbs grew heavy and lethargic as what little energy I had was drained. What was this?

A surge of adrenaline screamed through my veins as the dark mass suddenly began to advance, granting me the burst of strength I needed to turn and run, as fast and far away as I could. 

As it turned out, that wasn't very very far. 

I found myself thrown flat onto my back in the mud a moment later, sending the air rushing out of my lungs in a woosh at the harsh impact. I stared dazedly up at the sky as I tried to process what had just occured, blinking away both the spots in my vision and raindrops that pelted my upturned face. 

Saaya's face entered my line of sight, upside down as he kneeled over my prone form. His ashen lips stretched into a condescending smirk. "Did my ears mistake me? I was certain I heard you say that you would never run," He murmured. 

I blinked up at him in confusion. "What did you... how did you..." I whispered. 

His teeth flashed into view as his smirk widened into a cocky grin. "Would you like me to show you?" 

His smile grew once again when I gave him a hesitant nod. He stood then and, to my surprise, offered me his hand. I accepted, reaching up to allow him to pull me to my feet. I pulled away as soon as I regained my balance, uncomfortable with how much more potent his aura became with the contact. I ran my hands over my tunic in a vain attempt to dust myself off before meeting his gaze once more; the intensity of the unnatural light in his eyes wasn't dulled in the slightest by the light of the infant sun that was just beginning to peek over the horizon. 

"Then... shall we begin?" He asked.


	57. 57

Atticus' POV: 

After I grabbed my bag, we made our way to the guest room. I took out my tools and started working on his leg while Anti stood silently, either waiting for me to speak or looking for an opportunity to do so himself.

After a minute of setting up my makeshift work space, I took the first initiative.

"...What did you make of my uncle, Antioch?"

He leaned against the wall and looked away, scratching at his chin as he spoke. "First impression? Grade-A asshole. Douchery of the highest degree," he said without hesitation. "I don't like him."

"I see. Lovely." 

I continued tinkering with my limbs hoping that my voice had been dry enough to hide my disappointment. Antioch paused for a moment before sighing wearily. 

"But... he doesn't seem like a bad guy. Douche or not," he admitted reluctantly. 

"And what did he have to say?" 

Antioch's cheeks puffed out as he exhaled once more. "A lot. nothing he gave me made a lick of sense, though. He actually had more to say, but Jack ran him off before he could finish explaining."

I finally looked up at him. "Maybe I should have a look, then," I suggested. I was interested in getting information, yes, but I also wanted to really see my uncle. Hear the words from his mouth, even if the experience was second-hand. 

Antioch nodded and pushed off the wall to take a knee before me. I quelled my energy to make sure that his aura was the dominant one in the exchange, preventing any of my thoughts from leaking in and complicating the link. When I touched his temple, I saw everything through his eyes; meeting my uncle, hearing his words just before he fled... and Jack's sudden and ominous appearance. Though I percieved the images passing before me in real time as though I'd been there myself, I knew that the exchange only lasted a matter of seconds before it was over and Antioch withdrew. 

I took a moment to absorb the information before opening my eyes to see that Antioch had returned to his original position on the opposite side of the room to watch my reaction. 

"That 'prophecy' he recited for you..." I began slowly. 

"Ominous, I know. And it's the same one from your vision," he pointed out before adding, "minus the freaky epileptic montage that will probably be haunting my nightmares for the next month. Thanks for that."

I shot him a wry grin. "Misery loves company, I suppose. Hand me some paper and a pen, would you?" I requested, motioning to the desk beside him. When he sent them towards me with a lazy snap of his fingers, I jotted down the prophecy and took a moment to commit it to memory. Thankfully, it wasn't long enough for this to be too challenging. Antioch watched with mild curiosity as I then then turned the paper over and wrote it again in its entirety, slower this time. I paused often to think, giving careful consideration to the phrasing and changes in subject from one line to the next. 

After roughly two minutes, I had successfully organized the lines into a format that I felt made the most sense;

"A new light   
Has become the key  
That the blood of Abel's blood   
Will turn.

A seal of infant darkness   
Will become the lock  
That the blood of Abel's blood   
Will break.

The oldest nights will rise   
To devour the present days.

And thus an ancient shadow  
Will cast off its shackles  
To slake its thirst  
With the blood of the earth." 

 

"Find anything good?"

 

I sighed and lowered the paper to my lap. "Not really, no. I don't have nearly enough information to begin analyzing it. Judging by it's structure and wording, it's obviously very old and not meant for this language. Ideally, I would approach this as I would any other ancient text, but without knowing the time period and language from which it originated... there's really nothing I can do here that would pass for concrete," I explained. 

"...So in other words, we still got dick diddley. Great." 

He slid roughly to the floor with a thud and propped one of his elbows up on his knee so that he could rest his scowling face in his hand. I slid the paper to the side and went back to work on my leg while I turned the prophecy over in my mind. 

"The references made to Abel's bloodline make it clear that an Alchemist is heavily involved in the outcome. Unfortunately, since there are so few of us, there's a strong likelyhood that this whole thing hinges on me."

"You don't look very happy about that," Antioch pointed out.

"I'm not too keen about ushering in what sounds like the end of days, if that's what you mean," I said darkly. "Most people wouldn't be wild about the idea."

"Turn that pout inside out, kid. We can't assume anything just yet." The Demon's words faded into a yawn as he leaned back against the wall, making himself comfortable. "What else you got, nostra-dumbass?"

"I'm not going to dignify that with a response."

Antioch smirked. "Just did, but go on."

"I... whatever," I mumbled, dismissing his childish victory in favor of turning my focus back on the matter at hand. I picked up the paper and scoured it intently, muttering to myself. 

"A new light... key... infant darkness... gah! Fera!" I balled up the paper and incinerated it, sending it up in a small, short lived ball of flame and ash. 

"I'm gonna take that as a definite no. Also, you might wanna clean that mess up before Cici has a stroke," he suggested mildly, gesturing to the small flurry of ashes that was fluttering to the floor as he spoke. 

"Right. Goodnight, Antioch." 

He nodded and stood to leave, brushing one of those said ashes off his shoulder. "Sleep tight, kid. No more visions while I'm away, alright?"

I only had the time to pick up my screwdriver before I heard him once again from the hallway. 

"Hang on." I turned as he poked his head back in the door, his eyes narrowed. "What was that last line? The one about the infinite darkness."

"The infant darkness," I corrected. "And what about it?" 

"Yeah yeah, that one." He stepped fully into view and leaned on the doorframe, looking pensive. "I think Saul mentioned something else about that..."

"My uncle? What did he say? 

"Well, right before he ducked out... the infant darkness was what he called Jack."


	58. 58

Sarah Rhodes liked to think she knew fear. During her less than idealic childhood, She had become well acquainted with it, so much so that she now knew it well enough to stare it straight in the face and tell it to go take a hike. 

She liked to think of herself as tough. As a second degree black belt, she felt knew karate and basic sword play well enough to defend against most threats. 

The switch blade she always carried in her back pocket was reassuring as well. 

But every once of her training went out the window as she sprinted through the darkness on this particular night. She knew she could turn and fight. But she also knew that it would hurt. Badly. And she knew, deep down, that not an ounce of that pain would be shared by the one who was chasing her. 

Eventually, when she believed she'd finally shaken her pursuer, she veered into an alley way to hunker down until he passed. She ducked behind a dumpster and leaned against the wall with her back to the alley entrance, heaving for breath as she struggled to calm her racing heart. 

That's when she heard it: 

The laugh. 

She turned around slowly, even as her entire body tensed with the urgent, screaming need to flee. But all thoughts of flight drained away when she laid eyes on him.

He was terrifying, a spector of black and gold that radiated malice and murderous intent. He was tall, towering a head and a half over her meek form as though he intended to devour her. 

She collapsed to the floor and struggling for breath like a wounded thing as she was suffocated by his stifling aura, paralyzed and shaking violently with horror. Suddenly consumed by the fear of her own mortality, she squeezed her eyes shut tight against the sound of the soft, teasing laughter that mocked her terror, the sound raking down her spine like jagged claws. She was unable to muster up anything more than a weak flinch at the touch of a cold hand stroking down her cheek in an almost loving caress. 

"Look at you, just like a little lamb. How cute... " his voice crooned from directly in front of her. He lightly brushed his fingers over her eyelids that refused to lift. She forced herself not to think about where lambs were usually led. "You have no idea who I am, do you darling?"

She said nothing, too terrified to respond with anything but a small whimper that she was unable to stifle as he kneeled before her. His hand moved to rest on her temple over her pounding pulse as he slowly leaned in to put his lips to her ear. 

"Sweet dreams, little lamb." 

And she knew no more.


	59. 59

Third person POV: 

Akane Madarame sat bolt upright in her bed with a shriek, covered in a thick sheen of sweat. She kicked off the sheets that she surmised had tangled around her legs in the midst of thrashing about during her... dream. 

She turned and sat on the edge of the bed so that her feet rested on the floor and placed her throbbing head in her hands as she tried not to think about her most recent nightmare. This was unfortunately easier said than done; she knew from experience that she wouldn't be able to stop the memory from haunting her waking thoughts for at least a week afterwards. 

In her earliest memories, Akane could remember having dreams like this. She still could see each one so clearly. If she reached far enough back, she could relive each experience just as vividly as she'd lived them. They were burned into her minds eye, a burden that grew heavier with each new vision that plagued her. 

And she knew, deep down, that they were visions, not dreams. She had been just six years old when her strange grandmother had revealed the source of her nightmares, a power buried in her genetic makeup that had apparently skipped her mother's generation and went from Akane's grandmother to her. Akane's mother had cut off the conversation before the old woman could finish and ushered her child out of the room, scolding her mother on the way out for filling her grand daughter's head with such nonsense. Akane's parents had later explained that her grandmother had always been deluded, so much so that her outlandish beliefs had pushed away those that were closest to her. 

Akane had listened and nodded obediently at the time, but she had never forgotten her first, and last, meeting with her sobo.

She'd always believed, in the back of her mind, that there was truth to what she heard that day. It was the only explanation as to why she was able to see these things in the first place. In fact, her dreams were the only place she was even able to see. 

She had been blind and mute from birth, after all. 

Now Akane was a seasoned nightmare veteran of twenty five years, sitting alone in her dark apartment at two in the morning, groaning as she massaged her temples to assuage her oncoming migraine. 

She was more troubled than usual by this latest vision. She'd had many before this one, hundreds in fact. But this one was different. 

Not one of them had given her a name. Not one of them had been in a setting she could identify. Not one ought of those hundreds had ever seemed so real. 

"Sarah..." she whispered. 

That was the frightened girl's name: Sarah Rhodes. 

She had been running down King street, just outside Akane's apartment building. 

And she would be in grave danger very, very soon.


	60. 60

Atticus' POV: 

After Antioch's last statement, there wasn't much else to say, so he ducked out of the room and headed to bed without prolonging the moment any further. It took me an hour to repair and calibrate my arm and leg, and another hour or so to resize them to accommodate for what I hoped was my last growth spurt. By the time I finished, it was nearly midnight. Not wanting to stay up any longer for the sake of my health, I chose to delay my shower until the morning. I promptly stripped and crawled into the guestroom bed, my head swimming with a million different theories about the ominous prophecy.

A new light   
Will become the key  
That the blood of Abel's blood  
Will turn.

An infant darkness  
Will become the lock  
That the blood of Abel's blood   
Will break.

The oldest night's will rise to devour  
The coming days.

And thus an ancient shadow   
Will cast off it's shackles   
To slake its thirst  
With the blood of the earth.

If Jack represented the 'infant darkness,' did that mean that the 'new light'... could it be Antioch? 

In a way, that theory made sense; when Antioch turned his back on his own shadows, he took on the abilities of a light wielder despite being a Demon. As a result of that and some other factors that were unrelated to Antioch, Sean did the opposite, embracing the darkness to become the first human shade wielder in history. 

Two completely new creatures the likes of which the world had never seen, each more or less created by the same event. They both signified the birth of something completely new to both themselves and the Paranormal world; referring to their powers as 'infant' and 'newborn' wasn't too much of a stretch.

The blood of Abel's blood was most likely either me or my uncle, Saul. As far as I knew, we were the only two Alchemists left. Though seeing as Fell needed me to complete that first step of breaking the runes hidden in Jericho, it was probably going to be me. The Demon knew too much and was too fixated on me for me to assume otherwise. 

The 'oldest nights' and the 'ancient shadows' were obviously the old ones that Anjali trapped within the prison she created- wherever that was located. 

Whatever the case, if this apocryphal prophecy was indeed true, the events foretold in it were unavoidable. Fell had already set the prophecy in motion by dissolving the runes; whatever was to come would be happening soon. 

If my theory was correct, the end of days was near. Fell would win. The old ones would be released. 

And I would pull the trigger. 

I didn't get much sleep that night.


	61. 61

Atticus' POV: 

"What do you think people are gonna say?" Cardarius asked me the next morning as he applied copious amounts of product to his hair. I quirked an eyebrow at him and leaned down to spit out my mouthwash before responding. 

"About what?" 

"About Miss Jay." 

A pang of regret shot through me as I recalled our Vice Principle's demise the previous night. Her death could have been easily preventable had I just been a little more cautious and taken the time to set up defense and alarm wards to prevent an attack like the one that happened. Thirty minutes, that's all it would have taken. 

But hindsight is always twenty-twenty. 

"...I don't know," I said after a brief pause. "I suppose the school will be formally notified after the second day, when she's reported missing. How did you end up disposing of her body, anyway?" I inquired as I started in on my hair.

Cardarius cringed at the question and looked away, rubbing the back of his neck almost guiltily.   
"Uh... in a lake outside town. Cinderblock balloons," he muttered. Knowing it was better to just move past it, I didn't ask him anything more on the subject. It was enough that the body wouldn't be found.

It wasn't long after that when Grayson popped his head into the bathroom doorway to loudly announce that, "bwekfas ih Weady," through a particularly noisy mouthful of buttery toast and apricot jam.

I placed the comb on the counter and sighed while Cardarius held back laughter at our friend's unkempt hair and jam-smeared mouth. "Good morning to you too, Grayson. Charming as always." 

"I apologize for nothing," he said with a shameless grin. "But I actually came up to tell you that we're getting ready to call up X before school. Everyone else is already at the table." 

"Are Blaire and Leslie still here as well?" 

"Everyone. Speaking of which..." he saluted us and turned to dash back down the stairs. "Anti, I swear if you touched my bacon..."

(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())

"Hello, Renegade."

The six of us at the table- Antioch, Cardarius, Grayson, Leslie, Blaire, and myself- exchanged confused glances at the familiar, but unexpected voice emanating from the phone in the center of the table. 

"Z? What's the meaning of this? Where is X?" I demanded. 

By the time Cardarius and I actually reached the breakfast table, the rest of them were nearly done. So, we decided to skip breakfast and go straight to calling X for the status report. But when we dialed, instead of the head of the Lexicon prime, we were answered by one of his lieutenants, a woman known in Anonymous as 'Z.'

Z:

 

"X is on official business right now," the third prime responded in her usual emotionless monotone. "He told me to relay his regards and regrets; all reports and requests will be going through either Y or myself for the time being." 

Y: 

 

I shot Cardarius a meaningful look; this had to have something to do with our current situation. 

There were only five teams of Crows in the United states that bypassed the Lexicon and reported directly to the Lexicon Primed, and one of those groups just so happened to be me, Cardarius, Grayson and Antioch. Our situation was rare; the vast Majority of Anonymous operatives had never even heard X's voice or seen what he looked like. 

I wasn't stupid. I knew the Primes had taken a special interest in Antioch and I, even among those few with our rare privileges. I had a sneaking suspicion that X already knew about my uncle's reappearance, and that he also might know who had killed Janice Jackson and was stalking Sarah. I also had a feeling that this little 'business trip' of his was an attempt to gather more information himself.

What did the Primes know, and why was it so important that they hide it? 

Deciding it would be wise not to pry, and knowing that there was zero chance of a straight answer, I continued with the report without voicing my suspicions. 

Blaire and Leslie spoke first, explaining what happened when Jack attacked them. Antioch went next, since he was the last one who had seen Jack since then. I noticed he left out any mention of my uncle and the prophecy, but I didn't comment. 

Then we covered Miss Jackson's death and her identity not as a Resistance operative, but as a bounty hunter, presumably for Fell, Jack, and whoever it was that had taken her life. Interestingly enough, Z actually seemed somewhat unnerved when we told her about the true cause of death.

"In closing," I said when our story concluded, "I would like to request that our teams collaborate from this point forward, as it has become abundantly clear that our two cases are linked." 

"...Granted," the Prime said after a moment. "Psycho and Schitzo, for the task of accompanying Renegade's team, you are, as of today, enrolled in Whitney High School." 

"What?!" Blaire shot out of her chair and glared at the phone. "When was this decided?" 

"When you requested to work together," Z answered shortly. "Keep us posted." 

And with that, we were left with a dialtone. 

"This," Blaire grumbled as she slumped back into her chair, "is total bullshit."


	62. 62

Atticus' POV :

"You know, I'm pretty sure your outfit is violating the Whitney dress code in at least three different ways," I told Blaire as I locked the door behind us. 

She had used her powers of illusion to turn her T-shirt and leggings into what I had to admit was an impressive gothic ensemble. Just like her usual transformation, it looked nothing like her natural diminutive form.

 

"Well your outfit is violating my eyes," she scoffed, gesturing flippantly in my general direction. "Was the homeless look intentional?" 

I shot her a teasing smirk as I walked past her toward the street. "Well technically I am homeless. What's your excuse, Marilyn Manson?" 

"...They will never find your body." 

Well. At least Leslie found it funny.

(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())

On our way to school, I walked a tad quicker than usual, hoping to catch a certain someone before the first bell. 

"Jesus, do you always go this fast?" Blaire complained from somewhere behind the group. Cardarius and Grayson kept up automatically without questioning it, but Blaire and Leslie lagged behind and refused to cater to our pace. "What's the damn rush?" 

"There's a girl, an important one, that takes the same route as us in the morning," I called over my shoulder. "We've been keeping an eye out for her." 

"So... what? You're just stalking her?" Leslie asked. 

My two friends said 'pretty much' at the same time I snapped 'no.' I shot them a glare before continuing. "No, we are not stalking her, just making sure she's alright. It's surveill-" 

"Stalking. Got it." I could hear the playful smirk in Blaire's teasing tone. 

"Whatever. In any case, I thought it best to make friends with her at school in order to keep a closer eye on her." 

"In more ways than one," Grayson whispered to Cardarius, who snickered in response. 

I pointedly ignored his comment and pointed to a person a half block ahead of us. "There she is. I'm going to go-" 

At that exact moment, a panicked yelp followed by a couple small crashes from off to the side made us all stop in our tracks. On the other side of the street, a boy was laying sprawled out face-first on an apartment staircase, surrounded by a mess of books and loose leaf papers. He groaned and held his head in obvious pain.

Our eyes went from Sarah's retreating form, to the injured boy, and back to each other. I let out a defeated sigh and rolled my eyes. 

"Alright... let's go check." 

We crossed the street and approached the boy as he crawled into a sitting position, holding his face. There was blood coming from his nose; he may have broken it. 

 

"Quite a nasty fall you took there," I commented when we reached him. "Looks even nastier up close. Are you alright?" 

"Ugh... trust me, it feels worse than it looks," he moaned before eyeing us curiously. "Who are you guys?" He asked, still holding his face.

"Atticus. These are my friends," I answered shortly, offering him my hand. "Are you injured? Can you stand?" 

"Uh... yes, and I think so?" 

"Well come on then, up you get." He took my proffered hand, allowing me to pull him to his feet. He swayed for a moment before shaking his head and steadying himself.

"Thanks."

I sighed and glanced over to where Sarah was just disappearing around the corner an entire block away. It would look odd now if I sprinted to catch her before she reached the school. And the boy didn't even have so much as a broken nose; we'd stopped for nothing.

"No problem," I returned dryly, already turning away. "let's go."

"Well that was annoying," Blaire grumbled. "I guess you missed your girl, huh?" 

"So it would seem." 

"W-wait!" 

We turned around to see that the boy had gathered up his books as best he could and was running to catch up to us. Not in the mood to socialize any more than I had to, I was about to tell him to bugger off when- lo and behold- he tripped over his own feet and sprawled spectacularly onto the pavement with a ridiculous squawking sound. We watched in bemusement as his papers once again went flying every which way as he struggled to right himself. 

"Yikes. Not sure whether to laugh or cringe," Cardarius muttered awkwardly. 

"I'm doing both," Blaire sniggered as Grayson chuckled covertly.  I sighed and, cursing my conscience, walked over to help the unfortunate soul to his feet again. I could tell it was going to be one of those days. 

 

I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow when I reached him. "Normally, I'd ask if you were alright, but..." 

"Yeah, I know," the boy mumbled sheepishly as he cradled his elbow. "You aren't gonna help me up this time?" 

"Nope." 

"Fair enough, I guess." 

The boy hoisted himself to his feet and held out his hand with a chipper smile. He certainly recovered quickly, I thought. 

"The name's James Crowley. But you can call me Jimmy," he chirped.

I looked at his proffered hand for a moment before reluctantly grasping it in my own with a sigh. "Atticus Solomon. I suppose we're well met, James," I said as we shook. 

"Thanks! Hey, can I walk to school with you guys?" His expression turned sheepish, "I'm kinda new here." 

I hesitated and glanced back at the group. Cardarius and Grayson shrugged, while Blaire looked unimpressed. I couldn't read Leslie's reaction. 

"I don't think..." I faltered again when I turned back and was confronted with the most pitiful puppy eyes I had ever had the pleasure of encountering. I sighed once more. 

"Dear lord... alright, fine. Just this once," I conceded, wincing when his face instantly lit up like a Christmas tree. 

"Woo! Alright, let's go!" He crowed happily. He bounded off toward the others, completely oblivious to the disgruntled glares they sent me. I gave them a helpless shrug in apology. 

It was going to be a long day.


	63. 63

Akane groaned and stretched her aching muscles before forcing herself to roll out of her warm bed. Not that she ever got much good sleep out of it anyways.   
She clicked her tongue a couple times to orient herself, getting a feel for the impression of the room she was in before heading to the restroom. 

For any other person who lacked the ability to see, finding her way around a new apartment would be a challenging and sometimes dangerous endeavor. For Akane though, it was barely a problem at all. It had taken years, but she had eventually trained herself to 'see' without having to use her eyes. She'd had to play it by ear, so to speak, but echolocation wasn't impossible. And on the city streets, where there was no shortage of noise to give shape to her surroundings, she felt right at home. Sometimes it was so loud that, if she concentrated, she could 'see' entire blocks at a time. 

But that didn't mean she wouldn't give anything to witness a painting or a sunset. Or anything really besides her vivid nightmares.

Banishing those thoughts from her mind, she began her morning routine, keeping track of the passing time in her head. 

(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())

"Hey, you!" Lisa greeted brightly as Akane stepped into the shop. "How's it hangin,' Keller?" 

Lisa Horton was Akane's best friend, business partner, and a proud cofounder of their very own business. She had been by Akane's side every step of the way, supporting her dream even when both of their families didn't. After just two years, 'The Cauldron' was up and running. In another year, their business thrived, growing bigger than they'd ever dreamed. 

They made their living off of Akane's affinity for natural medicines and exotic herbs and spices. Providing the general public with access to the unlimited power of the earth was a business that helped and healed people, an endeavor that they could both take pride in. 

Even after three years, the thought made her smile every time she walked through the door.

'Not much. How about you?' Akane signed back to her friend with a smile that she hoped would disguise her lie. She really didn't want to talk about- 

"I know you well enough to tell when you're full of crap, Akane," Lisa informed her dryly as she put down the box of dried sage she was stocking. "We have thirty minutes before opening. You wanna tell me about it, or do I have to beat it outta ya?" 

Crap.

Akane sighed and raised her hands. 'I had another dream.' 

"Jesus, another one? That's the third this month!" Lisa exclaimed. "You okay, girl?" 

'Not really.' 

"Wanna tell me about it?"

'No... but I don't think I have a choice.' 

"Right you are!" Lisa plopped down on a bench beside the front desk and patted the space beside her. "C'mon, lemme hear it." 

'I don't know why I put up with you.' 

"Because you love me. Now sit!"


	64. 64

Atticus' POV: 

I was beginning to sorely regret allowing James to walk with us. 

He was like a human voice message, prattling on with seemingly endless chatter with no regard as to whether or not we were listening. I mostly just tuned him out and let Grayson handle the talking; he was by far the most social of the group, and if anyone could brave the noise, it was him. 

I listened briefly to their one sided conversation before turning my attention back to my own thoughts. I needed to get closer to Sarah as both Atticus and Renegade in order to learn what I needed. Why was she in the U.S.? What happened to Solomon? And why were the two most dangerous beings in the world after her?

I had to know everything if I wanted to protect her. I also had to keep her in the dark if I wanted to keep her safe. Those two contradictory objectives were sure to make a nightmare of my foreseeable future.

A light tapping on my shoulder brought me out of my thoughts. 

"Atticus." 

I was mildly surprised to see that Leslie had moved from the back of the group to catch up to me. Usually he just tailed Blaire, even on missions.

"Hello, Leslie." 

"Yeah, hi. Can I talk to you for a minute?" He whispered quickly. I looked at him for a moment, wondering at the cause of his worried expression. 

"...I suppose." I stopped and let Leslie lead me to the side. The others stopped briefly, but acquiesced when I jerked my head toward the school at the end of the block, motioning for them to head on by. Blaire narrowed her eyes at the two of us suspiciously, but begrudgingly joined the group when Leslie prompted her. I met James' curious stare with a glare that forced him to quickly turn around.

"Alright, what is it?" I asked when the others were out of earshot. 

"How are you not sensing this?" Leslie demanded before the last word left my mouth. 

I blinked. "Sensing what?" 

"I'm talking about that kid! He's..." he searched for the right words. "...Strange," he finished lamely. 

I raised an eyebrow. "Leslie, a quirky teenager isn't enough to warrant my suspicion. There are thousands of those." 

"No!" He burst out before calming himself. "Okay, look. I don't know how he's hiding it from all of you, but something isn't right. Please, just trust me," he pleaded. "Be careful around him." 

I looked at him for a moment before nodding slowly, deciding to trust his judgement. Oracles like him were rare, after all, and their advice was not something to be taken lightly. 

"I understand. I'll keep an eye out, Leslie," I assured him. He let out a breath and nodded, relieved that he'd made his point. I was still skeptical, but I was willing to agree, just to be cautious. 

When we caught up to the others just outside the school entrance, James was gone.

"Where did the kid go?" I asked. 

"He just bolted in as soon as we got here," Blaire informed me blandly. "Shouted something about being late for home econ. Not that I'm complaining. I can't deal with that ridiculous pep." 

"Same, dude. Let's just get to class," Grayson suggested tiredly, seemingly worn out from his time babysitting the human monkey. 

"Ugh, can't we cut?" Blaire whined. 

"Nope! You get to suffer like us normal kids for a couple days," Cardarius said cheerily.

"Classes haven't even started and I'm already in hell," Leslie muttered. I chuckled. 

"Welcome to Whitney High."


	65. 65

Atticus' POV: 

I was sitting in my usual seat beside Cardarius in the far back corner of my first period class. No one dared to sit close to us due to our pariah status, so the seats nearest to us were always empty. This never bothered me. On the contrary, our social standing suited me just fine. If playing the role they painted for us meant that I would be left in peace, I was quite content with being demonized.

I crossed my arms and sat back, closing my eyes to listen to my classmates chatter amongst themselves. Even if most of what I usually caught was nothing more than vapid gossip, I liked to be informed. 

"Did you see that hot emo girl?" 

"Dude, that new junior is so freaky. He stared into my soul." 

"Yo I saw some goth kids trailing the three muske-queers. They looked like a bunch of circus clo-" 

I opened my eyes and focused my gaze on the owner of the last voice I heard, sneaking a small touch of negative energy into my aura to give weight to my stare. The boy's words trailed off into silence as he and the group he was talking to felt the full effect of my irritation. They turned to nervously scan the room before, and by one, their eyes landed on me. 

Even though I didn't speak loudly, the rare sound of my voice was enough to silence the room. "I couldn't quite hear you, Trevor," I said conversationally. "What did you say we looked like?" 

Cardarius snickered quietly while the boy floundered for words. "Uh... I-I... um..."

Before he could answer, three loud electronic beeps sounded through the loudspeaker, signalling the start of class. There was an audible sigh of relief from Trevor and his friends when I relieved them of my attention. 

"That was brutal, dude," Cardarius whispered to me with a grin as Mister Reeves began the history lesson. 

I smirked. "I was just having a bit of fun." 

"I almost feel sorry for 'em."

"No you don't." 

"Ya got me there." 

Just then, the door to the classroom swung open wide to reveal a familiar face, panting and out of breath. 

"Shit," Cardarius muttered. "Is that-" 

"James!" Mister Reeves heartily greeted the sweaty boy. "I was starting to think you weren't going to make it. Erm, what happened to your face?" He asked, gesturing toward the boy's scraped nose. 

"Oh, this? Eh, it's a byproduct of having the situational awareness of a peanut," James answered with a cheeky grin. "Occupational hazard." 

It took me a fair bit of effort not to roll my eyes as the class chuckled, already charmed by James' goofy charisma. 

"Anyway, sorry I'm late. I kinda got lost," he apologized sheepishly. 

The teacher waved a hand in dismissal. "Not a problem at all. Class, this is James Davidson; he came all the way from Wisconsin with his family to spend the last couple months of his senior year with us." 

"Hiya!" James chirped, flashing the class a winning smile. 

I had never related more to Blaire than I did in that moment. 

"We have a policy here at Whitney for new students that requires them to introduce themselves to their classes," Mister Reeves continued. "Would you like to share a bit about yourself with us, James?" 

"Sure thing! Uh..." he thought for a moment. "Well, my favorite color is blue and sometimes green. I play a lot of video games too. Undertale is my favorite. Oh, and I really like dad jokes; the corny ones are a-MAIZE-ing!"   
He then paused to bow in response to the laughs and good-natured groans from the other students.   
"Thank you, thank you! You're too kind!" 

Cardarius and I exchanged a pained glance. "I'm dying. He's killing me. This is murder," he said. 

"Of the worst degree," I agreed. I looked up and was grateful to see that James had stopped talking and was scanning the room. 

"Oh hell naw," my friend hissed. 

"What is it?" 

"Dude, check the room. How many empty seats do you see?" 

I glanced around and quickly realized what he was talking about. There were only three available desks in the classroom: two in front of us, and one beside me. 

"Bullocks." 

I looked up once again, just in time to lock eyes with James. His face lit up when he recognized us. 

"Atticus! Sweet, I didn't know you were in this class!" He crowed before making his way towards us through the rows. Everyone else watched in silent shock as he plopped himself into the seat at my right. Even Mister Reeves was at a loss for words as James readied his books and materials, completely oblivious to his social error. He really hadn't been kidding about his subpar situational awareness. 

"Man, I'm glad you're here. I thought I was alone for a minute." 

I cleared my throat. "Uh... yes. Right," I said awkwardly. I shot Cardarius a pleading look, hoping he would switch seats with me. My friend was suddenly very interested in reading his notes from the previous day. 

Traitor. 

Thankfully, the teacher recovered from his surprise and began the history lesson again, giving me an excuse to ignore this new thorn in my side.


	66. 66

Blaire's POV: 

This was such bullshit. 

I was so pissed at Z for Signing Leslie up as a junior and me as a senior. I wanted to give her a few choice words, but of course she didn't pick up when I called the Prime's number. I left a creative voice message to make myself feel a little better. 

Bitch. 

Now I was all alone in some retro-ass eighties classroom with a teacher that looked like Danny DeVito's inbred brother and a herd of glue-chugging morons.  

It wasn't all bad, though; I had to admit, I thoroughly enjoyed watching how these kids reacted to me. I got looks ranging from curious, to dumbfounded, to flat out scared when I first graced them with my fabulous presence. I really didn't give a wild flying fuck what the brats thought of me;  In fact, I actually rather enjoyed being the center of  attention. When I walked into a room, I did it beautifully, always daring the people inside to look at anyone but me. 

I noticed a gaggle of five plastics straight out of 'Mean Girls' who had lost the dare and were staring at me from across the room, giggling amongst themselves. They were all well dressed and decorated with expensive looking jewelry, with well kept nails and perfect porcelain makeup. I met their eyes, smirked, and leaned back in my chair, stretching my arms over my head. I just couldn't resist teasing them a bit. I continued to stare blankly until they stopped laughing and noticed.

I then made direct eye contact with who I assumed was the Queen bitch and seductively licked my lips before making a snapping motion with my teeth. At the same time, I used a bit of my powers to give them the illusion that my eyes were completely black and my tongue was split. The girls instantly froze as the blood drained from their faces in horror.

I abruptly ended the illusion and gave them the one finger salute before turning away. I smiled to myself when the Barbies started whispering frantically amongst themselves, probably trying to convince each other that what they'd seen was some kind of trick. Which, technically, it was. But they didn't have to know that. 

"Hello." 

I looked up to see a pretty brunette take the seat beside my desk, smiling shyly. She was pretty cute; if this weren't a high school, I might have asked for her number. 

"Uh, hey," I returned as I gave her a cursory once-over. I had to do a double take when I noticed her malformed arm, but I quickly looked back to her face. 

 

"Sorry if Tabitha is bothering you. She gets easier to ignore after awhile," the girl told me kindly. I was about to ask her if I looked like I needed her pity, but something in the way she was looking at me made me stop. Her expression was just so... soft. Good lord, this chick could probably tame a wild bull with her eyes alone. 

After a moment, I cleared my throat and looked away.   
"Eh, It's whatever. Bitches like that are a dime a dozen, honey. Take away their Kim K. Makeup pallets, Gucci bags, and fancy wheels and all you'll see is an ugly, whiny leech that can't survive without constantly sucking the life out of someone else." I clenched my fists. "It makes me sick."

"...Um."

"Oh, sorry. Too much?" I grinned. 

The girl gave an awkward chuckle. "Just a bit, yeah. But it's okay."

"...So why are you talking to me, anyway?" 

"I didn't know I needed a reason." Her laugh was more genuine this time; it was kind of nice.

"That wasn't an answer," I pointed out. "Seriously though, I'm curious." 

The girl exhaled heavily as she thought of a way to answer. "Well, to be honest, this is really out of character for me. I usually don't go out of my way to talk to people, which is why I never had many friends here." She looked down as if remembering something. "And then after I turned down Chase-" 

"Chase?"

"A boy who asked me to prom. He's... not very nice. And neither was his proposal." 

"Ah." 

"After I turned him down a week ago and Atticus broke his nose... hey, that's not funny!" She scolded with a smile when I snorted. "After that, Chase started spreading rumors about me." 

I went from a smile to a glare in a second. "What a cunt." 

The girl winced at the word. "I-I suppose you could say that. After he did that, the friends I had stopped talking to me."

"Fuck. That's brutal," I said sympathetically. I was surprised to find that I was actually feeling legitimate sympathy for her.

"So..." she shrugged, "I guess I came over because I know how these people can be. I don't think anyone should have to face that alone." 

"I'm Blaire. Blaire Schneider." I held out my hand and she took it with a smile. 

"Savannah Hutchinson."

"Alright, The pact is sealed. We're friends now," I said in a dark voice before smiling. "Just remember, you asked for this." 

"I take full responsibility for my actions," she said. The twinkle in her eye belied her solemn tone. 

Three loud, annoying beeps sounded through the loudspeaker, cutting our conversation short. Bizarro Danny DeVito stood up and walked to the front of the class. 

"Alrighty, there's the bell," he said in a surprisingly chipper tone. "Before we start, I've got a couple announcements to make. Blaire, would you mind coming to the front of the class?" 

I blinked. "Um, yeah. I would very much mind that."

"Come on up, don't be shy!" He persisted. 

"...Ugh." 

I sighed and Begrudgingly pushed out of my chair, deliberately taking my sweet time getting to the front. 

I pretended not to notice when a kid stuck his foot out into the aisle as I went. When I reached him, I  casually lifted my leg a little higher and slammed my fabulously sharp heel into his foot on the way down. The kid howled and and jerked his foot back as I turned to him in mock surprise.

"Oh! I'm so sorry, I didn't see you there!" I gushed. "Are you okay?!"   
Then I leaned down and whispered into his ear so only he could hear my next words.   
"Next time the heel is going in your neck, dipshit," I growled.

I smirked when the kid turned white and leaned away from me. This whole school thing was more fun than I expected. 

"Class, this is Blaire Schneider," the teacher announced when I made it to the front. "She'll be with us for her last couple months of school. I'll hand the floor to her while she tells us a bit about herself." 

"Nah, I'm good, you can keep the floor." 

"I insist." 

"I'm allergic to floors."

DeVito sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as the class laughed. "Look, it's school policy. Just say something and you can sit down, alright?" He said, losing the peppy tone.

"Something," I grinned.

"Are you trying to get detention?" He demanded. He looked more done with my shit than Atticus ever had. 

I held in my laughter and held up my hands in surrender. "Okay, okay, I give." I turned to address the glue-chuggers with a lazy wave. I spoke in a rapid fire monotone: 

"Hey. I'm Blaire. What's up. Things I like: Mosh pits, big guns, sarcasm, and stilettos. Things I hate: pretty much everything besides those. I'm allergic to floors. And idiots. Achoo."

"Alright, that's enough. back to your seat," Mister What's-his-fuck dismissed me tiredly. 

Satisfied with my stellar first impression, I smiled sweetly and waltzed back to my seat. I was pleased to see people pulling their feet back and leaning away as I passed; they were sure to avoid me like the plague from now on. 

Mission accomplished. 

"That was... interesting," Sarah offered. 

"I am interesting. Still wanna be friends with a psycho like me?" I teased. 

"I can't back out now; the pact was sealed, remember?" She reminded me with a grin. 

"You know what Savannah? I think I might like you."


	67. 67

Akane's POV: 

Lisa blinked. "Wow. That was..." she trailed off and cleared her throat. "Anyways. Are you gonna go look for this Sarah girl? You said you recognized the street, right?"

I sighed. 'I really don't know, Lisa. Maybe.'

"It's up to you, girl." Her face brightened up then. "Heyyy, maybe you could put in an anonymous tip to the cops! Then you wouldn't have to go," she suggested. 

I raised an eyebrow. 'Alright, let's say I do tip them off.  But then what? Have them sit out there every night for God knows how long, just waiting for something on the word of a complete stranger?' I asked. 

"...Alright, you make a fair point," Lisa admitted sulkily. 

'And that's only if they decide to listen. And besides, I told you about the-' My hands briefly faltered, forcing me to restart the thought.

'I told you about the man I saw. He wasn't... natural.' I had to hold back a shudder at the memory. 'I can't give the cops a tip that could get them killed or worse. It's out of the question.'

"What's worse than getting killed?" She asked curiously. 

'Trust me; I've had enough visions to know that there are a LOT of things worse than death,' I signed grimly. 

"Yikes," she winced. "Once again, fair point." 

True to form, she then flipped her mood from zero to a hundred in less than a second. "Welp!" She said as she popped up off the bench, pulling me with her and locking her elbow with mine, "There'll be plenty of time to worry after work. C'mon and help me finish stocking, it's almost opening time!"

Looking forward to the distraction, I smiled and started to make a 'yes' motion when my entire body froze. I could physically feel the blood drain from my face as I was overcome with an intense wave of vertigo that sent the room spinning around me. I started to tremble when a sourceless wave of terror slammed into me, kicking my heartbeat into overdrive.

Lisa's next words were muffled as if spoken through a wall of water. "Akane? Are you good? Jesus, you look like y-" 

I didn't hear the rest of her sentence before I collapsed in a dead faint. 

(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())

I said bye to Blaire and left first period with a smile, happy that I had made a new friend. I had to admit that she was a bit odd, but I was sure that we would be- 

I suddenly lost my balance and stumbled to the side, bumping into a group of kids along the way. I mumbled an apology as I righted myself and turned to walk away, only for my legs to turn to jelly once again. Thankfully, I was close enough to the edge of the hallway that I was able to catch myself against the lockers before I fell to the ground. I winced and lifted a hand to my temple. God, my head...

"What's up with you?" 

I looked up at the voice and found that I recognized the boy who had spoken; it was one of Chase's friends, from the cross country team. He had paused in the middle of switching out the books in his locker and was staring at me curiously. 

"N-Nothing," I stuttered with a shaky smile that probably looked more like a grimace. "Just a bit tired. You know how school is." 

Ond of his eyebrows rose as he shut his locker. "Riiiiight," he drawled skeptically. 

I was unable to stop myself from groaning when I was hit by a wave of dizziness that would have sent me to the floor had the boy not steadied me with a surprisingly gentle hand on my shoulder. When I peeked up at him again, his expression had changed from bemusement to concern. 

"Woah, hey. Don't die on me, now," he chuckled awkwardly. His furrowed brows belied his slightly teasing tone. "But seriously, do you need the nurse?" He asked. "I can-" 

He was cut off when a second boy approached, another of Chase's acolytes. "Stecker! We gotta get to class, my dude. One more pink slip and I- what are you doing here?" He asked when he saw me. 

"She goes to school here," the boy named Stecker told him blandly. 

The second boy ignored him and continued to address me. "What, you gonna try and bag him too?" He laughed. I wilted and ducked my head to hide behind my hair. "Give it up tease, Stecker doesn't want Chase's sloppy seconds."

Stecker took his hand off of me and turned around. "Dude, what the fuck is wrong with you?" He snapped as he roughly shoved the other boy's shoulder.

"What?"

"Are you fucking serious right now, Greg? You really don't get what's wrong with the steaming pile of shit that just came out of your mouth?" He demanded angrily. 

I decided at this point to make my escape and started to slowly back away on unsteady feet. "I didn't... I wasn't trying to... I-I'll just leave," I mumbled pitifully as I turned to go, holding myself up on the lockers as I went. 

"What? Hey!" Stecker exclaimed when he noticed me shuffling away. He moved to intercept me, blocking off my escape.  "Yesh, that's gonna be a no from me. We gotta get you to the nurse."

"But-"

"Don't be stupid. I'm not taking no for an answer," he cut in firmly.

"The hell is up with her?" Greg asked, more out of curiosity than concern.  

Stecker lifted his eyes to glare at him over my head. "You know what Greg? It's none of your God damn business. Go to class."  

"Wait, are you actually gonna waste your time on that?" The boy scoffed incredulously as he gestured towards me. "Dude, she's a slu-" 

"STOP."

Greg's mouth snapped shut in shock, his eyes wide. Stecker lowered his voice and spoke slowly.

"Go. To. Class," he repeated darkly. "Last warning, Ellis. Get the fuck out of my sight before you say something I'll make you regret."

I looked over my shoulder at Greg as he looked Stecker up and down, sizing him up as if he was considering picking a fight. After a moment though, he thought better of it and backed off. 

"Alright, whatever man. Your funeral," he called over his shoulder as he sauntered away. 

Stecker stared after him silently until he disappeared around the corner. "Wow. Just fucking... wow." He huffed out an incredulous laugh and shook his head. "I didn't think they actually... damnit."

His eyes were a bit kinder when he looked back at me. "Come on, let's get you outta here."

I froze when he took my arm and put it around his shoulder. I glanced at him nervously before averting my eyes, not really knowing what to do with myself. 

Noticing how uncomfortable I was, he gave me an apologetic smile. "Sorry, I just didn't think you wanted to be carried. This is the next best option."

"...Okay." 

"You good?" 

"Yes." 

"Good. Let's go."


	68. 68

Atticus' POV: 

I put my things away early and discreetly motioned for Cardarius to do the same. We both ignored  James when he questioned us in a whisper. Both of us were up and headed towards the door seconds before the bell rang, eager to make our escape before he had the chance to glue himself to our sides again. 

"Oh my God, dude," Cardarius groaned. "What's that kid's problem?" 

"I have no idea," I returned flatly. "And I'm not sure I really want to. But Leslie thinks there may be more to James than meets the eye." 

"You know what? I believe him. My Creep-dar is off the friggin' charts. That kid's creepy. Like, Courage the Cowardly Dog level creepy. Actually, you know what? Scratch that, Courage needs to step up to this kid's level," he ranted. "Dude's way too happy not to be a sociopath. How is nobody else picking up on this child killer vibe? It's-"

I hummed in agreement, only half listening at this point. I thought back to when Leslie said something similar during our chat  before school. 'How are you not sensing this,' He'd demanded of me. Cardarius had made the same point, albeit in a roundabout way. It was true; even I couldn't sense anything at first, and our classmates had taken to James so quickly that it almost seemed unnatural. 

Maybe it was. 

Either way, I intended to find that  out very soon. 

The hallways had almost completely cleared when a wave of dark energy crashed over me, stopping me in my tracks. Every fiber of my being was instantly on high alert as I instinctively closed my eyes and reached out to zero in on the disturbance. 

"Shit, dude," Cardarius whispered. 

"I know." 

When I found the source of the energy, my heart stopped.

My eyes flew open wide. "It's Sarah." 

(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())

Sarah's POV: 

My feet seemed to grow heavier with every step I took. Eventually, I had to lean almost my entire weight onto him, but thankfully he didn't seem to mind. 

"We're almost there," the boy I now knew as Stecker assured me. "Hang tight." 

"Why are you helping me?" I mumbled weakly as we neared the Nurse's door. He gave me a pained glance out of the corner of his eye. 

"The fact that you even have to ask is part of the reason why. Nurse Maxfield!" He called as he knocked on the door with his free hand. An elderly, sweet looking woman answered with a kindly smile.

"Did you sprain something again, Mister Stecker?" She asked before gasping as she noticing me practically slumped against his side. "Oh my goodness!" 

"Unfortunately, no, it's not me this time," Stecker said with a small twitch of his lips. "Any cots available?" 

"Yes, of course! Come in, come in!"   
She urged as she hurried us through the door. I sighed in relief as I was laid back onto the nearest cot, happy for the break. I was just so tired...

Nurse Maxfield laid her hand on my forehead as Stecker/Jason sat down nearby. I could feel his concerned eyes as I laid there. 

"Gracious, you're burning up," the woman breathed. "What happened to you, dear?" 

"Sick," I mumbled as I struggled to keep my eyes open. 

"Did you eat breakfast this morning?" 

"You ask that a lot," Jason told her dryly. "Is that a general nurse thing, or is it just a you thing?" 

"Oh hush," the Nurse snapped grumpily. "Make yourself useful and go grab that phone on my desk. Can you tell me your parent's number, sweetie?" She asked in a gentler tone. 

After making sure that one of my moms was en route, Nurse Maxfield told Jason to head on back to class. 

"Actually, I'd like to stay awhile if that's alright," he said. 

She sighed. "Oh, fine. But I'm not writing you a pass," she grumbled sternly. 

"That's alright; history is my strong suit," he grinned. "I can skip one class." 

"Well, I'll be in the next room filing this in. Call me if you need me, dears." 

The door to the adjacent room closed behind her, leaving Jason and I alone with nothing but dead air between us.

I was the one to break the silence; it was hard not to slur my words, but I somehow managed to get out my question. "What did you mean? About my having to ask?"

He sighed and sat back in his chair. "Look, I know my teammates can be pretty pigheaded. It's a track team, a little trash talk in the locker room is pretty much unavoidable. Until ten minutes ago, I thought it was just that: talk." 

It was really sad that I wished that were true. 

"I always just kind of chuckled along; I didn't want it to seem like... ugh. I don't even know," he muttered. "But I guess they knew I wouldn't like what was going on, because I never saw or heard about anything actually happening. I don't know why the stunt Greg pulled today surprised me. I should have been expecting that." He looked at me then, his eyes filled with guilt and anger. "God Savannah, I'm so sorry." 

"It's okay," I assured him with a small smile. "Really. I'm used to it." 

"Yeah, well, you won't be having to deal with this shit much longer. I'll take care of it," he promised. 

"You don't have to-" 

"Trust me, I want to." 

"But what about track? They'll be cross with you," I pointed out in protest. 

He scoffed and shook his head. "I'm not afraid of them. Besides, if it gets too bad I can always quit." 

I was about to object again, but closed my mouth when I saw the determination on his face. Once again, it was clear he wasn't taking no for an answer.

"Anways," he said as he stood up from his chair, "second period is almost over, so I'm sure your mom will be here soon. I'll see you around, Savannah." 

"Okay," I whispered. I allowed my eyes to drift shut as the door opened. I stayed that way for only a moment before I heard Jason speak again.  

"What are you doing here?" 

My eyes fluttered open again to see Atticus and Cardarius standing in front of Jason in the open doorway. 

"I could ask the same of you," Atticus said darkly.


End file.
